When I read Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart,” I spent a terrified evening and then confessed a bunch of stuff to my mom. (I had been “written up” on the school bus that day. That was my “beating of his hideous heart.”)
Also, I remember my teacher crying as she read us the end of Where the Red Fern Grows, and I carried that around in my heart for weeks. Well, obviously for decades.