I Knew It

I had always known that man was mad; by the way he acted and talked. My boys made fun of him and simulated his every action. I tried to stop them because it really got me on my nerves.

           

It’s been a couple of days since I heard the electrifying shriek from the house next door. It came from the mad man’s mansion; he was the old man’s caretaker. Clad in my heavy nightgown, I got up from my bed. It had been a cold night but for some reason I was dehydrated. 

           

It was dark, as I gingerly went down stairs to the kitchen for a glass of water.  I turned on the kitchen lights and looked at the small window located above the sink. I made a cursory study of the neighbor’s wooden house, which had always given me a creep. Not the house itself, but the young mad man who worked there. I had always seen something strange on him; perhaps the way he looked at the old man, I could see he always made a face of disgust. I felt myself grimace as I watched the pitch-black house with no sign of life or emotion.

           

I took a glass of water from the top cabinet and filled it with some ice. I opened the refrigerator to pour some cold water in the glass. I made a quick inventory of the things left in the refrigerator and noticed I needed to go to the market and get more food. I drank all the water and washed the glass carefully, placing it inside the cabinet. I looked around and turned the kitchen’s lights off.

           

It was dark again, as I made my way upstairs checking my boys’ peaceful sleep. As I crawled up my bed, I heard the abrasive sound. The gruesome shriek, it had to be from the old man! I surmised that the mad man had done something and the poor old man, with that glassy eye, had had to succumb.  I had to call the police!

           

A man with a low voice answered at the station. I was able to corroborate the situation, since I had been extremely aware of what had happened. I gave the man the address and he said that three officers would endeavor to come at that early hour. The only thing I could do was wait.

           

Days later, I derived from Mrs. Manson that the mad man had killed the old man. I had known it from the start.