Goodbye Old Man

For days, seven days, I gingerly opened the door, snuck in, and watched the old man. You see, one mad man, one mad man I am not. One mad man would endeavor a cursory death. The eighth night came, oh it came alright, but tonight, tonight I would not simulate the past weeks visiting routine. Tonight was the night.

I was clad in black clothing to blend in the dark, I was ready. I thought to myself and derived the reason why, why I wanted him dead, so, oh, so badly... but all I could think of was that eye, that disturbing eye I could not get out of my mind.

Here I am, in the hallway, the halway leading to the chamber, the chamber in which that eye, that disturbing eye, it lays. Surmising he is asleep, I crawl in feeling the abrasions on my knees begininng to form. I wait, I wait some more, the silence was electrifying. I find myself succumbing into temptation. The time has come. Nervous, very, very dreadfuly nervous I have been and am. I could feel the sweat rolling down my body, as I began to dehydrate.

That eye no longer meet the day of tomorrow. I pull the lantern out of my inventory, for one last glance--just one--of that eye, that disturbing eye. You may be wondering why, why I want to see that disturbing eye one last time, just to say our farewells.

I grab that matress, give him that last glance, and sufficate him with it. He gave a screech, a gruesome screech, once--once only; which followed by my grimace. I placed my hand upon his heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. Thus I corroborated his death. Goodbye old man, goodbye. His eye would trouble me no more.