week 1 assignment
The Horrible Thing
I’ve done a most horrible thing.
I saw it all happened in my own hand, that horrible thing. I did it. What horrible thing exactly I may not tell. You must not tell anyone, he told me.
It is a secret, and no one should know about it, he told me.
I must not say a word, so I made myself a mute. Every time I tried to speak, my throat locks, my voice gags, and I choke. I knew I have been acting strange, they had me visited a therapist.
The Horrible Thing
I’ve done a most horrible thing.
I saw it all happened in my own hand, that horrible thing. I did it. What horrible thing exactly I may not tell. You must not tell anyone, he told me.
It is a secret, and no one should know about it, he told me.
I must not say a word, so I made myself a mute. Every time I tried to speak, my throat locks, my voice gags, and I choke. I knew I have been acting strange, they had me visited a therapist.
“Have a seat. Tell me what happened.” Said the therapist.
I stared at her, thinking of what to say. Scenes flashed across my mind, it was all a blur. I felt nauseated.
I opened my mouth prepared to speak. Suddenly, my hands rose up grabbing my throat, choking me tyrannously. I shut my mouth, the hand let lose. I opened my mouth once again, the fingers abruptly climbed up, wrapping around my neck, ready and set. All I could hear is my hoarse gagging. In the back of my head, I thought how funny I must seem right now. I feel like a goldfish in the fish tank, mouth babbling yet nothing came out but bubbles.
If you say a word, I will have to kill you. He screamed loudly in my head, I felt a painful headache drilling deep into my head.
The pain was too strong! I fell to the floor, banging my head. Make it stop! Make it stop! I cried.
“Mr. Thompson? Mr. Thompson, are you alright?”
I shook my head, the agony intensified.
I cried out in pain and nodded instead. The pain eased.
“Mr. Thompson, do you need to see a doctor? What’s wrong?”
“No, I’m fine. Nothing is wrong with me. I don’t know anything. I don’t need a therapist. I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need anything!” The words flew out of my mouth so fast and fluent, I could hear my shaky voice under my breath.
“Are you sure?” She seemed concerned.
“I’m fine.”
Telling lies is always much easier then telling the truth, why is that? I wondered.
Maybe because truth kills people, he said with a wicked smile on his face.
I winced.
“Do you have anything you want to tell me, Mr. Thompson?”
“What—I’m sorry?”
“Do you have anything you want to share with me? What ‘s in your mind right now, Mr. Thompson?” She said in a soothing voice, staring at me with worrying gaze through those glasses, and I felt a twinge of fear.
I could almost hear his whisper by my ears, “It is not a secret anymore if the more than one person knew about it.”
I opened and closed my mouth several times fighting the words out, finally thought of something that wouldn’t get me chocked, “I wish I am a fish.”
“Fish?”
“Yes. A goldfish, perhaps.” They say fish only has three-second memory. If I was a fish, I could forget everything in three seconds. I wouldn’t remember anything about that horrible thing. I wouldn’t need to try so hard to keep that a secret.
“I see.” The therapist looked confused, but continued on, “do you remember anything from yesterday’s incident, however?”
Yes! I remembered! I did it! I didn’t mean to ––it was all a blur, but the time I realized, he had a gun in his hand, and I killed him… We had conversation, but I don’t remember what we talked about, I heard screaming and yelling, and when I looked down, my hands were covered with blood. I didn’t mean to kill him!
I wanted to confess! Really! Believe me! But before I could say a word, my hand flew up and covered my mouth.
I told you, he spoke softly by my ear, if you let the secret out, I will kill you. I could hear him chuckled in a low voice, breathing out my death sentence.
“Mr. Thompson? Do you have any clue what happened yesterday? Did you see anything?”
“…I’m sorry, where is this place? Who are you?”
Only the dead can keep good secrets.
I killed myself.
I stared at her, thinking of what to say. Scenes flashed across my mind, it was all a blur. I felt nauseated.
I opened my mouth prepared to speak. Suddenly, my hands rose up grabbing my throat, choking me tyrannously. I shut my mouth, the hand let lose. I opened my mouth once again, the fingers abruptly climbed up, wrapping around my neck, ready and set. All I could hear is my hoarse gagging. In the back of my head, I thought how funny I must seem right now. I feel like a goldfish in the fish tank, mouth babbling yet nothing came out but bubbles.
If you say a word, I will have to kill you. He screamed loudly in my head, I felt a painful headache drilling deep into my head.
The pain was too strong! I fell to the floor, banging my head. Make it stop! Make it stop! I cried.
“Mr. Thompson? Mr. Thompson, are you alright?”
I shook my head, the agony intensified.
I cried out in pain and nodded instead. The pain eased.
“Mr. Thompson, do you need to see a doctor? What’s wrong?”
“No, I’m fine. Nothing is wrong with me. I don’t know anything. I don’t need a therapist. I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need anything!” The words flew out of my mouth so fast and fluent, I could hear my shaky voice under my breath.
“Are you sure?” She seemed concerned.
“I’m fine.”
Telling lies is always much easier then telling the truth, why is that? I wondered.
Maybe because truth kills people, he said with a wicked smile on his face.
I winced.
“Do you have anything you want to tell me, Mr. Thompson?”
“What—I’m sorry?”
“Do you have anything you want to share with me? What ‘s in your mind right now, Mr. Thompson?” She said in a soothing voice, staring at me with worrying gaze through those glasses, and I felt a twinge of fear.
I could almost hear his whisper by my ears, “It is not a secret anymore if the more than one person knew about it.”
I opened and closed my mouth several times fighting the words out, finally thought of something that wouldn’t get me chocked, “I wish I am a fish.”
“Fish?”
“Yes. A goldfish, perhaps.” They say fish only has three-second memory. If I was a fish, I could forget everything in three seconds. I wouldn’t remember anything about that horrible thing. I wouldn’t need to try so hard to keep that a secret.
“I see.” The therapist looked confused, but continued on, “do you remember anything from yesterday’s incident, however?”
Yes! I remembered! I did it! I didn’t mean to ––it was all a blur, but the time I realized, he had a gun in his hand, and I killed him… We had conversation, but I don’t remember what we talked about, I heard screaming and yelling, and when I looked down, my hands were covered with blood. I didn’t mean to kill him!
I wanted to confess! Really! Believe me! But before I could say a word, my hand flew up and covered my mouth.
I told you, he spoke softly by my ear, if you let the secret out, I will kill you. I could hear him chuckled in a low voice, breathing out my death sentence.
“Mr. Thompson? Do you have any clue what happened yesterday? Did you see anything?”
“…I’m sorry, where is this place? Who are you?”
Only the dead can keep good secrets.
I killed myself.