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Mary Bennewitz

AP Lit- 4
Oct. 29, 2014
The Mysterious Case of Bertha Mason
Unlock the door.
Crouched in the corner of the attic, with my hands wrapped tightly around my
knees, I rocked back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Do it. Now!
Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and
Dont make me say it again!
My body rose from the cold ground and wandered toward the door. I outstretched
my arm and grabbed hold of the doorknob.
Open the door.
My hand stiffened on the brass. I couldnt.
You have to kill him.
You have to kill him.
Hes my husband. I promised him.
You have to kill him.
To love and to cherish, till death do us part.
Look what hes done to us.
He did it for my own good. Because he loves me.

Hes kept us up in that god-forsaken attic for ten years. Weve looked at the same
white walls. Weve never seen the sun rise or set. He didnt do this because he
loved us, Bertha, he did this because he hates us.
I became plagued with savagery. My eyes widened with craze and my muscles
stiffened. I scampered down the attic stairs and towards Edwards bedroom.
Fire, fire, fire.
A wide grin spread across my face and a cackle escaped through the gaps in
my teeth. Fire. That will do.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down, I sang as I pranced through the halls. I reached
Edwards room and quickly raced to his bedside. A box of matches was resting on
his nightstand.
Do it.
My eyes landed on Edwards face. It was peaceful. He was dreaming. His blood
flowed through the veins in his neck and mimicked the beating of his diligent heart.
Bum bum. Bum bum. Bum bum. His rib cage moved with the rhythm of his breath.
In, out. In, out. In