Witness Point of View
The Tell-Tale Heart

I remember the old man, nice guy he was. Always charming; but the neighbor, yes that odd man. I derived that he was mad. He would always grimace when the old man set eyes on him. He cringed and seemed like he wanted the ground to swallow him. I knew there was something off about him.

One night I lay awake in my room. It was one of those sleepless nights. I thought that maybe some warm milk might make me drowsy enough to get some rest and settle my dehydrated state. Not one light did I turn on as I went down the stairs; then I saw a shadow outside. I could see that the peculiar figure was clad in dark clothes. Electrified with fear, I stared wide-eyed at it. Suddenly, he turned to go another way. The foggy night didn’t allow me to see further; with a last cursory look out the front window, I headed back to my room.

Next evening, I saw the crazy neighbor talking to the old man. Strangely enough, the mad man wasn’t his usual abrasive self. He simulated a completely different person. Acting nice, smiling and what startled me the most was that he gingerly helped the old man up the stairs. He seemed to succumb to the old man’s charming attitude, but I derived that maybe he was after the old man’s fortune.

That night a gruesome, blood-curling scream woke me up. Maybe someone would have thought it was a bad dream. My surmise was that something had happened next door. The old mad was in big trouble, hanging on to his life by a thread probably. Without thinking it twice, my instincts told me to go to the police and tell them what I suspected. When I arrived I was yelling hysterically, and the policemen there told me they would endeavor to get to the bottom of this.

I went back home after that, the policemen were next door searching the house. Shortly after that, one of the policemen came to my home to coarrobate that the old man was murdered.