Imagine you are coming back from a fun get together with friends. You get out of your car, about to go inside your home and call it a night, until you notice that the front door is wide open. You hesitate, standing next to your car, your mind entering flight or fight mode. Should you enter the home? Should you call the cops? Should you get back in your car and call the cops while driving? Even though you don’t want to, you choose the first option. Your curiosity gets the better of you. You push open the door, entering your home. The first thing you see is your TV on in the living room. Nothing else is astray. The remote hasn’t been removed from the same position you left it: on the little table in front of the TV.
Yet, the TV is on. Playing only static. You begin to feel uneasy. You don’t want to, but you can’t help yourself. You look toward your alarm system. It didn’t go off. It appears it never did. So how is the front door wide open? Your fear is now escalating. Sweat trickles down your face. Your brain is scrambling for answers. You think you hear your name echo from the television. Impossible. It’s just an old TV with a VHS.
You thought you saw a face appear on the screen for a split second. You look away from the TV, hoping that you are just tipsy from your fun night with friends. You think of the nightmare you have been having every night. You wake up to TV static downstairs in your living room. You walk downstairs. There is someone in your living room. There is someone in your house. There is someone coming out of the TV. Before you can scream you wake up back in your bed. You hope you are dreaming. You hope that you just fell dead asleep on your bed once you arrived back home.
You feel chills spread across your body. This is not a dream. You hear your name echo from the television again. You freeze. You look away, the only sound coming from your beating heart, and the TV static. Something is crawling out of the TV now, like in your nightmare. You can hear it. It has your own voice coming from its mouth. You don’t look. You tell yourself to run. You can’t. It is now standing right behind you. You see it’s shadow. It looks like yours. Something breathes down your neck. You see a replica of your own hand grab your shoulder. Black ooze is dripping from the fingernails.
You don’t think. You run. You run from your home. You get into your car. You see something with your face leave the house. It is smiling. You put the car in reverse and get the fuck out of there. You don’t look back. You cry. You think of the static coming from the television. You know you will never go back home. The TV static will haunt you for the rest of your life.
