Darkness had descended hours before Julie stepped inside her front door. The door slammed shut. 'Must have been the wind', she thought, as she fumbled for the light. The room felt familiar, but it wasn't home... It looked like an old house, and smelled like one too.

This was her home ... thirty years ago.

Julie walked into the next room, yes, her childhood bedroom. The blue glow attracted her. She was greeted by a thirteen inch, 1960's, black and white television. It sported rabbit ears with tin foil, as did all TV's prior to cable.

The only sound was the loud buzz of static. As she turned the dial, the first 'click' made her jump.

She clicked through the thirteen channels, only three displayed so much as a test pattern, which used to grace the television screen between the hours of midnight and 6 AM, when stations were, 'off the air'.

As she made a final click, she heard, 'Julie Clarke, this is your life'. She watched while every mistake she'd made in life played out on the screen.

She was horrified that someone had recorded her indiscretions, from coloring on the wall when she was five, to that party in her, not-so-savory, teen years ... and then ... fear gripped her.

She vomited on the floor before running toward the door.

This time, it opened easily.

She ran down the steps ...

and into ...

his knife ...