“Villains!” I shrieked, “dissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tear up the planks!--here, here!--it is the beating of his hideous heart!”

The officers--shocked at my confession--turned their little hypocritical smiles into a very--very--stern face of concern. But they already knew!--they already suspected!--thought I; why were they so shocked? They had to have heard the noise. But there was no time for thought after that, for the officers pulled their flintlock pistols on me, and told me in a loud--loud!--loud! voice to put my hands above my head, before restraining my hands with cuffs. The villains then viciously pushed me outside and hoisted me onto a horse pulled wagon. You would have only been able to imagine how bad it was being stuck in here, with no fresh air and little light. Hours seemed to pass, and I was still stuck--stuck in the wagon of the heartless officers who trapped me for ridding an evil from my sight. Yes! yes! that was the reason I was trapped here; I wanted to get out--I needed to get out--I had to get out! 

“Let me out!” I screamed, “release me now!!--villains of society--free me from my suffering!”  

Still, the villains ignored my existence--rejected my existence--forgot about my existence. I continued to scream; and screamed until the sound of songbirds stayed silent. When the officers came out with pale white and disgusted faces, it could only mean one thing: they had found the body. The officers then bore me away in the wagon. The horses pulled us on the road to the town hall, where the officers said I was to stand trail for murder. This was madness I told them; I was defending myself from the evil of the old man’s eye. Anybody who saw his eye would have gone mad--mad! I told them. The nasty villains were dissatisfied at this, and carried me into the town hall--dragged me into the town hall. How unpresentable I must have been, with a dirty nightgown and ruffled hair. As a fine gentleman yourself, you would know how it feels to be unpresentable like I was. In the courtroom, the prosecution charged me with a count of murder, and showed various pieces of incriminating information against me. This was madness to me; how would society be punishing me for simply defending myself. This was mad! This was pure madness! I had to prove myself--show why I killed the man in defense--show that I was not mad like they thought!

“I admit to killing the old man!” I screamed, “But you must know this you ruthless villains--you have to know this! You should have seen the man’s eye! His eye! It would bring any sane man to madness! I was defending myself--protecting myself! Do you want to imprison a perfectly fine man acting on his instincts of self defense?”

The judges were not impressed with my speech at all, and declared that I had to be mad. I was sentenced to this madhouse for treatment, where I stand today with you doctor, forced to talk about the reasons I killed that old man. But you will not--you will never--cure me of my disease, and make me “normal” again. I will be haunted by the man’s eye for all of eternity! I will remain here until I die, for there is no more point of continuing to exist, as my life--my life--my life! is pointless now.