Short Story: Sane Lunacy
Hellooooo! I am finally on break and will have a lot more time to write on here! Yayyy! :)
For school, I rewrote the story; The Tell-Tale Heart (By Edgar Allan Poe). I found this story to be very thought-provoking, which pushed me to wonder how I can adjust and play around with it to make it original. My adapted version of the story contains a twist in regard if the characters, setting and conflict but stays true to the original theme; effects of guilt on conscience and the descent into madness.
I was really happy with how it turned out so I decided to share it on here!
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Let’s make something clear -- very clear, I am NOT crazy. I am NOT mentally or
emotionally unstable. Oh, now watch me as I tell you this story calmly and sanely.
My extended family has lived in the very same house for multiple generations. My family continued the tradition and moved in. Ever since the first year of Kindergarten, we have lived in a small timeworn town just outside of Brighton, England in a collapsing, lifeless, worn-out, antique house; which was probably built sometime around the 18th century. Our neighbourhood hasn’t changed a tiny bit -- not a single bit; the same people, the same houses… everything stayed the same.
My neighbour’s cat has always been my childhood best-friend, but things have changed over the past few months, lately our house has been put through so many diagnostics because I reported that it was haunted. My friends started off the entire theory as a joke, “Boo! Aha … scared ya! This house is totally haunted,” they all joked. But I … I didn’t think it was much of a joke. I had no proof ... Until one day, I laid my hands on the key to unlock this case, then -- only then was I completely sure that our house was haunted.
One boring afternoon, I was playing -- just messing around with Photo-booth; taking videos and pictures, when I heard something a little unusual in one of the videos I took. It was a silent video of me making weird faces and playing around, but I heard something -- I knew I heard something. It was a whisper -- oh how quiet of a whisper … quiet or not I couldn’t have possibly missed the deep voice that angrily whispered, “why … are …you … in … my … house?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, I kept listening to it over and over, for a minute there I thought I was hallucinating but it couldn’t be -- it was there; loud and clear. I screamed like I had never screamed before, and tumbled down the stairs with my computer tightly wrapped between my hands. My parents needed to hear this … I finally laid my hands on the proof I needed, which apparently is called an EVP.
They listened to the recording many times but said they couldn’t hear anything. I decided to bring it to the police anyways. For some reason, they couldn’t hear it either while I heard clearer every -- every single time, it was like the ghosts and I had a strong connection.
Nevertheless, the police sent men in protective suits to investigate the house. Our house has been through so many diagnostics, every single one proved that it was completely normal; no paranormal activity, no ghosts and for sure nothing wrong with the construction. Only one test was positive, proving that our walls were infested with something. Aha! Ghosts! I knew it all along! These were my initial thoughts. But it turned out to be infested with red wood-eating termites.
The officer said that our house could collapse at any moment, so my parents insisted to tear the old house down and rebuild a new one, but in the same exact spot. I thought this was ridiculous, the ghosts that communicated with me would just move into the the new house.
One day, I was casually walking back home from school to find my parents standing on the sidewalk in front of all -- absolutely all of our belongings messily scattered across the street. I knew it immediately … my childhood house would be gone forever in just the matter of hours but nothing was in my hands anymore.
We waited around 2 hours or so until the bulldozer and the wrecking ball arrived … as it started to get into position and to get the job done, I caught the old fat cat with the corner of my eye crawling out of my neighbours crumbling patio. Once the cat was on the street, the wrecking ball started acting up … it just stopped working. Then, I caught the cat again crawling back in to the house and once its fat legs stepped into the house the wrecking ball started working again. I still don’t know what was happening. It took a while to get the wrecking ball back in position then … BOOM! It smashed the house and once it started collapsing to the ground, the cat and I made eye contact.
That’s when it hit me. The old man’s words to me when I was young, “Mark my words child. Poseidon, his old cat, might look small but it is older than anyone here and that’s what makes it seem so vile.” Those were his exact words; I could remember them clearly like he had just said them seconds ago. The cat has been here for hundreds of years, it all made sense …. That cat has known me for years; our connection is unbreakable. No wonder I was the only one who could hear it … by then I had come to a conclusion, the old cat was haunting our house. The cat was haunting our house. The cat was haunting our house! Yes, it truly was! All this time -- all along I have blamed other things but the source of paranormal activity has always been there.
It all made sense; the cat was a rare crossbreed between a hairless Donskoy and a fat Persian cat, it had an abnormally horrible appearance with its spotty fur, bald spots, wrinkly skin, and odd eyes … I never noticed how bad it really looked until I really thought about it. But I thought about it way too much … day and night -- night and day, the old fat cat’s appearance didn’t leave my brain … its like it haunted me – it did haunt me … it even haunted my house.
It bothered me every second -- every hour… it got way out of control but I couldn’t get it off of my mind. But the solution was there, big and clear, the only way to stop thinking about the old fat cat was to get rid of it. Every time I tried to stop thinking about the hideous appearance I saw it through the window but, if Poseidon wasn’t there anymore then how could I be reminded of the repulsive appearance… that was it… that was my solution… I wasn’t going to be haunted by the cat and our new house wasn’t going to be haunted like the one before, because Poseidon will be in Cat heaven before the new house is built.
I had 2 weeks to do the deed…I planned and planned until I thought about nothing but the cat and how I was going to get rid of the cat and blah blah cat. I didn’t have any time to spare … I was becoming crazy! It needed it to be done.
Three days prior to the day the builders were coming, I found myself grabbing a bottle of poison that we were given for the termites and walking through the disintegrating patio. I knocked on the door and strolled into the old man’s house, he has always been very welcoming. He asked if I could feed Poseidon pointing to the corner were the cat food was … this was my chance -- the perfect chance… to get rid of the cat.
I spilt some of the poison into the plate and placed the cat food on top, I also dissolved some of the poison into the bowl of milk… I went to give Poseidon its food, it looked at me as if it knew these were its last moments. It ran to the old man, licked him and came to me. I felt horrible, but its appearance dissolved into my blood… I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I fed the cat and excused myself to bed.
I thought I would be relieved after the deed was done, no one to haunt me or my house anymore, but not a second passed in which I wasn’t thinking about it. I couldn’t keep it in.
The next morning, I found myself in the police station telling the officer everything -- including the fact that I killed the cat but why am I confessing my own crime… the cat’s soul must be controlling me because only a crazy person would confess their own crime and I AM NOT CRAZY. Before I knew it, my parents were called and I saw them sign something… a paper of some sort. At the end of the day, I was sent into this weird room with no windows or doors.
[endif]--That’s where I am now, in a Teenage Psychiatric Asylum, I don’t know what that means but I hate it, its horrible. What I know for sure is that-- I am absolutely completely normal and I am NOT CRAZY. I AM NOT CRAAAZY!![endif]--
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I hope you liked this story! Make sure to comment what types of posts you want to see in 2017!! :)
