His fears had been ever since growing upon him. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first noise, when he had turned in the bed. I knew what the old man felt, and felt sorry for him, although I laughed to myself. Many a night, late at night, when all the world slept, it has welled up from deep within my own chest.

It was the low sound that arises from the bottom of the soul. Then I heard a noise, and I knew it was the sound of human terror. He was still sitting up in the bed listening - just as I have done, night after night. During that time, I did not hear him lie down. I did not move a muscle for a whole hour. The old man sat up in bed, crying out 'Whos there?' I had my head in and was about to open the lantern, when my finger slid on a piece of metal and made a noise. On the eighth night, I was more than usually careful in opening the door. And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern just so much that a single thin ray of light fell upon the vulture eye.Īnd this I did for seven long nights - but I found the eye always closed and so it was impossible to do the work for it was not the old man who was a problem for me, but his Evil Eye. I moved it slowly, very slowly, so that I might not interfere with the old mans sleep. And every night, late at night, I turned the lock of his door and opened it – oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening big enough for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed that no light shone out, and then I stuck in my head. I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. You should have seen how wisely and carefully I went to work! Whenever it fell on me, my blood ran cold and so - very slowly - I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and free myself of the eye forever.

I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! He had the eye of a bird, a vulture - a pale blue eye, with a film over it. It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain. How, then, am I mad? Observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole story. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. True! Nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am! But why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses - not destroyed them.Ībove all was the sense of hearing.

Today we present the short story 'The Tell-Tale Heart' by Edgar Allan Poe.

Allan poe the tell tale heart