The Tempest Monologue

“I...I….he had a cataract,” I spoke as I heard a faint noise. A familiar noise. A noise that had hardly disappeared. The old man's heartbeat. I started pacing back and forth as if the walls were closing in on me. Each and every officer looked at me with eyes from Satan. It had felt like a Samurai had been slashing every bit of my shrunken soul. I was going behind bars. The sun started to rise, quite early this time of year. They took me on a horse down the sandy wide streets. Dust blew in my face as we passed a portly man with a basket of crops. The market was on the right, lads picking up tomatoes for supper. I tried to remain calm while on the road. The noise of the horses hooves clattering was the only thing to distract me from the consequences
The old man's heartbeat has come back and come back to haunt me. I am not mad. This man is not dead I have not killed him. His devilish eye is beaming on my soul, but he had been slaughtered to pieces and buried under the floor. “He is here to kill me,” I dimly stated when the officer next to me had glanced in concern. The thought of his eye has angered me beyond belief. I cannot stay on this horse any longer. “We are almost there,” One of the officers clarified with not a single emotion. “We are almost where? Where are we going? How much longer?” I bugged the troop. “Ummm...we are going to put you in hospital. Temporarily. Just until you go on trial. Which will be tomorrow at noon. No more talking until we arrive, understood?” The man hesitated. Despite what the man said I am going to speak. I am not going to let the old man’s heart torment me. My mouth opened about to ask when, but then around the corner peeked “Mental Institution ”. I am not mad. I am not letting strange men put me in a place that I do not belong. I am not going on trial to defend the actions i had a perfectly good reason for. The old man is not even going to be there to defend