He believed that this illness was in his family. It attacked his senses, he said. He could eat only simple foods and wear only soft clothes. Weak light hurt his eyes, and even flowers smelled bad to him. Music was the only sound that pleased him. He was always afraid.
‘I will die’, he said. ‘I must die if this illness continues. I fear the future. I fear that I will lose my mind completely. I am afraid that I will die of fear.’
Usher never left the house. But he believed that the house was the reason for his strange illness. His dear sister, Madeline, was suffering from a similar illness. She was dying and was Usher’s last living relative.
‘When she dies,’ he said, ‘ I will be the last of the Ushers.’
