Rohin Galhotra

Ms. Debbie Kauffman

AP English 4, Period 3

10 April 2014

Notes from a Psychopath

Introduction

The following account is that of Hugh Creighton. At the age of seven, his abusive father

killed his mother in a drunken rage, making him an orphan. Sent to a workhouse, he was caught

at torturing birds and other small animals. After driving a pike through another orphan’s eye, he

was sent to Bedlam Asylum in London. Since escaping that asylum several years ago he has

lived and worked on the docks in Bristol.

I

What kind of woman are you? You carry around that Negro of yours asking away for

passage to Africa. Some rich man’s servant you claim to be, but what servant dresses as

shabbily? Is as desperate? For that matter, you don’t even have the money to pay for a voyage.

Surely your master would have given you money, this Cruso you speak of. I heard you talking to

Cap’n Morrison, listening to his lies of how his ship was to sail to the Far East for a cargo of

spices from the East Indies. You almost believed him before the good Wharfmaster intervened.

What interests me, though, is that dark follower of yours. He’s mute, and it seems he’s a bit daft

as well. He would fit well in Bedlam, he deserves it more than I did. I’ll enjoy cutting into him.

I’ve done many women before, but never black flesh.

II

I am obsessed by your manservant. I have followed you away from Bristol. I will catch

you on the road, I tell myself. Yes, that’ll be the best, I’ll wait until you sleep and then I will get

you and your so-called freedman. I’ll give him the ultimate freedom, the freedom from the prison

we call life. And by divine providence I will be fulfilled.

III

It is about to happen. You and your slave were sleeping on the road. I had the knife in my

hand, it would be my moment. I could do the crime and nobody would know, nobody to shut me

in a dark room and act like something is wrong with me, nobody to poke and prod at me. It

would be my ultimate achievement. I’ve done it more than a few times but I know none would

give me the pleasure I would get from this time. And then everybody would know if a negro is

the same as a white man on the inside or not.

IV

Damn you and damn that farmer. I was there. In the bush. One strike and I would have

you and your negro. But that damned farmer showed up with his horse, and you awoke. By then

it was too late, I had spent too much time waiting for the right moment that by the time it came it

was ruined. I may not have gotten you, but I had to sate my taste with someone. A lone farmer is

easier to take than a woman and a grown negro man. But after this is done maybe I’ll return to

the city. Pay that man you claim to work for a visit. One Foe, at least that’s what you said to that

farmer. Even if he is not real, you said his name so readily, so unprepared, that he is a real

person. And if he is real he can be found. And if he can be found I can use him to find you, Ms.

Barton, and your Negro.