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The Black Cat I do not expect anyone to believe the wild tale which I am about to write. I would be mad to expect it in a case where even my own senses reject the evidence that I have seen. Yet, crazy I am not - and I know that it was not a dream. But tomorrow I am to be put to death, and so today, I must unburden my soul. My purpose is to list plainly before you, a series of household events. Through their consequences, these events have terrified - have tormented - have destroyed me, yet I will not attempt to explain them. One day, perhaps, someone may be found who will be able to explain these fantasies of mine, in a calm and logical manner, as nothing more than they really must have been - an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects. From my childhood, I was noted for being an extremely kind and warm person. So tender was my heart, that I was constantly teased for it by my companions. I was especially fond of animals, and my parents indulged me with a great variety of pets. With these animals, I spent most of my time, and I was always happiest when feeding or caressing them. As I grew, these tender habits also grew within me, and in my manhood pets were still my principle sources of happiness