I am not mad.I loved the old man, yet his eye terrified me. It was pale and vulture-like, and whenever it fell upon me, fear gripped me completely.The heart still thumped in my ears as I confessed, and all my cleverness was destroyed by my own remorse.For nights, I watched him sleep, moving silently through his room with a dark lantern.It grew louder, echoing in my mind.I shouted, revealing the secret.I was nervous, yes, but my senses are sharper than most men's.Fury took hold of me. I struck, and the old man fell beneath the heavy bed.