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noon today I just can not any longer. I went down to the computer, have thrown 50 cents and looked to see whether I have new messages. Morpheus I've experienced it then. What happened last night. These are not nightmares. They are real, the pictures in my head.

After I've read it, she grabbed me again, fear. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. I've slammed the door of my room and I've crawled under the covers. I've always done before, if I'm afraid.

I'm hoping that the fear will disappear under my blanket. But then I suddenly became very tired. And fell asleep. And then they came back, the pictures. The lamp, she has again started to flicker. Suddenly I was back in the dark house, along with the man

But this time I see everything much clearer. Knack, knack. I hear the man laugh. See how to push. And as the man falls to the ground. I kneel down beside him and pick something up off the floor. It's a newspaper, you just fell from his coat pocket. In it, he has a little ticked. With a red pen.

What is it, realize I can not. But instead I see something else. Something that stands above the edge. Something that is so bad that I woke up from sheer terror of it. The date. The newspaper is not today, she is already old. Very old. It will run from Thursday 16 September 1997.

I have done so. evidence does not lie. I killed a man. In my last life. How do I know which else? Who is the man I do not know. Why not have him killed. I know one thing, but I will have to atone.