His Hideous Heartbeat

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

I tore the planks and watched the officers’ faces dissolve into shock. As the beating of the hideous heart subsided, their smiles evaporated as I painted the grotesque scene. The tallest of the three officers turned me around and handcuffed me. 

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney,” he said. 

“But– you see Officer! I had to do it! It was a must! In fact I did the world a favor! You should have seen the eye! It was horrendous– certainly not something you would have ever wanted to set your eyes upon!” No matter how many times I explained myself, they would not listen! It was so amazingly frustrating– you had no idea! 

I was ridden to the county jail where I spent the early hours of the morning asleep. I awoke to see the morning paper on the floor of my cell. Now, you mustn’t think me mad! No, of course I was not mad! Of course, I exposed my secret–I just had to! I could not stand that terrible rhythm anymore!– but no, I most certainly wasn’t mad! Madmen would certainly not have been able to evade the police quite as long as I. 

As I pondered this, a man opened my cell door. I sprang up thinking I was to be let go. They must have realized I had done nothing wrong! After all, if they had finally come to their senses about my situation, there was only one thing they could do: let me out and thank me!

“Your arraignment is in two hours– up! We’re leaving.” spoke a gruff voice. Handcuffed again, I was led to the back of a dusty, beat up wagon. One and a half hours later, I was seated in my chair next to my attorney. 

She spoke firmly. “I have reviewed your case, sir. I only see one option here– one you may dislike– and that is to plead insanity.” 

“But–but–! You must not think I am mad! You must be mad to think me mad! You may certainly not send me south to a psychiatric ward!” You knew I was not mad! But you still sent me away! It was as if you had one demoniacal intention: to resemble me as mad when I truly wasn’t! This entire time! I have been reasoning my innocence to you, and it is now all wasted. Go ahead. Plead insanity to the judge. At least I know I’m not mad! My voice was drowned by the sound of the wretched gavel. My reasoning was said all in vain. All in vain because you– my own attorney– refused to find another way out. 

The arraignment ended terribly! 15 years! I could not– I would not– spend fifteen years in a mental hospital! Never– I refused! I told you I was not mad! And you disregarded my constant telling you! Fear of spending my next years in a mental hospital among other menacing thoughts meddled their way into my mind. Terror, horror, and disgust grasped me. 

As I exited the courtroom, I found dense crowds surrounding me as I made my way to the sullen wagon. Suddenly, I heard it– the rhythmic beating– the beating of that hideous heart! And then the gunshot was heard; the crowd was crazed. I collapsed and fell to the ground, shrieking frenziedly as I felt blood soak my shirt. The heartbeat waned and finally faded.