Telltale Heart

The Telltale Heart

I have a journal I am filling out that has different, unique activities for each day. Yesterday, the journal said "steal a title from a book you've never read and invent your own story." I asked someone in my family and he said "do Telltale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe." So I did. Here is my creation.

     My hands became bloody, stained an eerie crimson red. I grimaced before digging my hands back into the wound. It was a huge one. A two foot, few inch wide gash in my patients chest. I knew it was unlikely, but I leaned into the man's face, my ears straining, yearning for the slightest breath to escape between his lips. I got something much different.

     "Hey. Hey buddy, in here." The voice was muffled, as if something was covering the speaker's mouth. I realized it was being emitted from INSIDE my patient, right near the wound. I dug my hands in once more, my surgeon mask doing little against the stench of death. I came to find the heart, and pulled it out, examining it. It vibrated slightly as a voice rose from the aorta. "Sorry friend. He's dead. Trust me. I know. I'm not beating, see?" I suppressed a scream, and the instinct to fling the organ across the room.

     "What, or who are you?" I inquire, narrowing my eyes as I scanned the room, searching for a co-worker who might be playing some cruel trick. But no one and nothing caught my eyes. I came to believe the scent was driving me crazy. But the heart answered.

     "I, am the Telltale Heart. Everyone has one. Don't you?" I stutter, my hands shaking as I cup the heart carefully in them.

     "I-I-don't know." The heart is silent for a moment.

     "Well, do you know what a Telltale Heart is?" It says after much thought. I shake my head. "Well, if you don't even know what something is, how do you expect to know if you have it?" Its asks. I bring the heart closer. The scent not even a thought anymore.

     "Tell me more. Please." I now hunger for any words this amazing heart has to tell me.

     "Well, do you have memories?" I nod.

     "Yes."

     "Then you my dear, have a Telltale Heart."

     "I do?" My eyes brighten.

     "Yes. I am sure of it." It seems quite pleased with itself. "You see, once your first memory forms, your heart becomes a Telltale Heart. Because your heart, not your brain, is where memories are kept. If you fill your life with bad memories, your heart will become rotten. Good memories make your heart thrive." I nod as it explains.

     "Then your human must have been a good human with good memories. You are in great condition. But why is it called a Telltale Heart?"

     "Well, because it tells the tale of your life! I hold everything about this man within me. But now, unfortunately, I will also die. But don't fret. Once your heart dies, the memories meet your spirit again, so you will carry who you once were with you forever." I was baffled. What was even crazier than having a conversation with a heart, was that the heart was making sense! I nod, my eyes wide. "So." It finishes, it's voice becoming feeble. "What tales will your heart tell?" It becomes quiet, lying perfectly still and normal in my hand. I blink back tears before placing the heart back into the body. To this day, the conversation I had with the heart is still clear. So now I ask you. What memories are held in your Telltale Heart?