Honestly, this story was creepy. I really despise horror-related things, and I didn't like this story as much as the others partially because it was creepy. I thought it was interesting, and I like Poe's writing style, but overall, it didn't settle with me.
This story is about a person who has a burning desire to murder an old man because he has the "eye of a vulture". Apparently, this bothered him, and it bothered him so much that he thought it was necessary to kill him because of it. For a few nights, the person would peek into the man's bedroom and watch him sleep, only because he didn't have the courage to approach him- because his eye was always closed, it was impossible to do the work. On the eighth night, the person finally goes in, and the man starts to become suspicious that someone's in his house. He lies awake in his bed, and the person can see the man's vulture eye open- this frightens him, and the anticipation builds, the man's heart beat speeds up and the person quickly jumps next to the bed. This makes the man scream, but the person immediately dumps him on the floor and squishes him with the bed. The man dies, and the person is happy about this. He tears up some floorboards and hides the corpse underneath them so no one can find it. Soon after, three policemen come to investigate because a neighbor said they heard a scream. The person invites them in, not concerned about the murder at all. However, a certain sound catches the person's attention, and it gets louder and louder. It starts to drive him crazy, and when he can't take it anymore, he finally admits that he killed the man and hid his body.
I think that the mysterious sound at the end represents the guilt taking over the person. It starts out small, but it grows and grows until they can't lie anymore. This is a good representation of what guilt can feel like. The policemen didn't have to do anything for him to confess. Just the fact that he was aware that he was hiding something made him feel bad about himself. I think it's human instinct to tell the truth, and when people try to cover it up, it's very difficult.
This is a moment in my life where I have felt guilt:
I was on vacation in Mexico one summer with my parents, grandparents, and aunt a few years ago. We were staying in a pretty nice house, and one morning, we were having a normal breakfast. I can't recall why, but for some reason, I was pretty pissed at my aunt. She must've said or done something to make me feel this ultimate hatred for her. Anyways, we were eating, and I said that I had to go to the bathroom or something. Little did everyone know that I had a plan for revenge. I sneaked into my aunt's bedroom with an almost full water bottle. I opened the drawers with all her clothes in them, and very slowly, I poured the water all over her stuff. Once the job was done, I called everyone in, showing them what happened. I explained in a panicky voice how I came in and the water bottle tipped over and "accidentally" spilled water on everything. Seeing that it was an accident, my aunt said that it was okay and started to hang her clothes up in the bathroom. At this point, I felt absolutely awful. I had an urge to admit that I did it, but of course, I decided not to in fear that everyone would get mad at me. And punish me.
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