The TV Turned On… Showing Something From Tomorrow” Part 1
At first, it showed her sitting there… seconds before she did.
The TV turned on by itself.
Elena froze.
The remote was still on the table.
Untouched.
Her eyes moved slowly toward the screen.
A faint static flickered.
Then—
the image appeared.
Her living room.
Exactly as it was.
The couch.
The lamp.
The small table near the window.
Everything perfectly normal.
Her breath slowed slightly.
Confused.
Uneasy.
But not afraid.
Not yet.
“Okay…” she whispered.
“Glitch.”
That had to be it.
Some kind of signal interference.
A neighbor’s device.
Something crossing over.
It happened sometimes.
She had seen videos about it.
Weird.
But explainable.
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
Her mind searching for logic.
Something familiar.
Something safe.
She stepped closer.
One cautious step.
Then another.
The image didn’t change.
Didn’t flicker.
Didn’t distort.
It remained steady.
Clear.
Too clear.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Something felt off.
She leaned in closer.
Studying the screen.
And then—
she saw it.
A movement.
Small.
Almost nothing.
But enough.
Her heart skipped.
Because on the TV—
she saw herself.
Sitting on the couch.
Completely still.
Looking forward.
Directly at the screen.
Elena’s breath caught.
Her chest tightening.
“No…”
She turned slowly.
The couch behind her—
was empty.
She hadn’t sat down.
Hadn’t moved.
Hadn’t even thought about it.
And yet—
on the TV—
she already had.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Her pulse quickening.
“This isn’t funny…”
Her voice felt thin.
Unstable.
Like it didn’t belong to her anymore.
Her eyes snapped back to the screen.
Still there.
Still sitting.
Still watching.
A version of her—
ahead of her.
Waiting.
Elena stepped back.
Slow.
Careful.
As if distance would fix something.
As if space would make it normal again.
It didn’t.
The image remained.
Unchanged.
Final.
Her gaze flicked between the screen and the couch.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Reality and—
whatever this was.
Her breathing became uneven.
Too fast now.
Too shallow.
And then—
on the TV—
her reflection moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
It leaned forward.
Closer to the screen.
Closer to her.
And for the first time—
it smiled.
Elena’s entire body went cold.
Because she hadn’t.
Not yet.
About the Creator
Dorothea Bautz-John
True crime writer exploring unsolved mysteries, serial killers, and the darker side of history.
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