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Theories to what caused Poe's death include suicide, murder, cholera, hypoglycemia, rabies, syphilis, influenza, and that poe was a victem of cooping. His cause of death is still unknown and to this day is a great mystery historians are still attempting to solve

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Schizophrenia in                                                                                      Tell Tale Heart 

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Schizophrenia in                                                                                      Tell Tale Heart 

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Some people believe that I had Schizophrenia because I had delusions with voices and heard the beating heart of the old man after I killed him and confessed. For those of you who don't know the story, I killed an old man because of his hideous white eye. But, after I killed the old man I could hear the beating of his heart and it haunted me until I screamed out my confession to the police. In my lifetime I was involved with drug and alcohol abuse and I didn't remember what i was doing. I also had a disorder that messed with the way i think because when I killed the man I was not thinking straight and I wasn't in my own mind at the time. Or that's what people thought...

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Edgar Allan Poe started his literature with coming up with the modern detective story, developing the Gothic horror story, and being an important early examples of the science fiction form.All of his stories showed how he felt at the time, once he died people started to notice him because people could relate to him and his feelings and emotions

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I was the first person to use the term 'short story'. This is because the term "short story" was not used by any other authors but me.

Even when I died, I still had a legacy to uphold and people knew about my hard life and my writing.

The American football team ,the Baltimore Ravens, are named after me, known as one of the most famous poets.

I was a very big cat person, when I used to write I always had my cat on my shoulder, it made it more relaxing and it made my ideas flow better.

I fell in love with my 13 year old cousin. We even got married!! But, when she died I started falling into  depression. I never got over her death.

Virginia, my wife, died of Tuberculosis ,which is a lung disease.

But, my first love was Elmira Royster who I had known since childhood. We did not get married because our relationship was broken when I left for the University of Virginia. She ended up married to another man

Due to my gambling and alcoholic addictions I never  ended with a steady income, this meant that I ended my life with various places of debt.

When I died, Rufus Griswold ended up writing the "Ludwig" obituary. Parts of this talked about how I had very few friends by saying "few will be grieved".

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I was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on January 19, 1809. My parents worked in the theater. I became a romantic poet, a master of macabre tales, inventor of the contemporary detective narrative, and a sharp literary critic, editor, and journalist as I grew up. I was left as an orphan at the age of two, and was raised by John Allan and his wife Frances in their house in Richmond, Virginia. Although I received good care from my foster parents, Frances was my main source of affection. I attended colleges in Virginia and England on Allan's dime. I showed a talent for language at a young age, and in February 1826 I enrolled in the University of Virginia. After accumulating massive gambling debts while at the University of Virginia then leaving without a degree, I moved back to Boston and at the age 18, I published my first book, Tamerlane.

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I had a very hard life, it was filled with mountains higher than i could reach and with the death of the people around me. This pushed my writing to a different way, the horror subject really spoke to me after the death of my beloved Virginia. Even though she was younger than me and she was my cousin, i loved her dear and i fell into depression after her death. This is where my career i writing took a turn, i started writing what i felt and my mood. My arch nemesis Rufus W. Griswold tried to sabotage me several times, this just pushed me to work harder. I also struggled with alcoholism, this was what caused my death on October 7, 1849. When I died, my career was not very expansive, but lucky Rufus's plan to make me miserable after life did not go as planned. He tried to convince people that i was a madman, but this made my writing more appealing to people because they related to me and my struggles. After all, i had a very eventful life with people i loved, and i ended up being a big hit!

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I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture — a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees — very gradually — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

- Edgar Allan Poe

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"For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea

In her tomb by the side of the sea."

Annabell Lee is a timeless romantic where I express my love for "Annabel Lee". Many historians believe I wrote for my perished wife, Virginia Poe. See, I love her deeply whether she is by my side or not. I see her in the shining moon and her smile in the sea for only my love could love me so deeply. After she passed in 1847 I was blanketed into a great depression looking to poems as my only glimpse of light and happiness showering me with memories of my love. I released my romantic poem in 1849 paving a new generation of love poems.

Fact-I deaded the year i wrote this

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"And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more.”

Poe said the raven is meant to symbolize "Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance". He was also inspired by Grip, the raven in Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of Eighty by Charles Dickens.