I let out a long sigh of relief as the video finally came to an end and the download closed out. I placed my hand on my throat and rubbed gently. It was almost as if I felt choked just by vicariously reliving my final moments on Earth. I got up once more, pacing the perimeter of the white room. I felt sick to my stomach at the prospect of the viewing the contents of computer. I had access to any moment in my life at the click of a button, including my own murder. I took a seat in a criss-cross position at one of the four corners of the room.

It could have been anyone who killed me in all honesty. I had lots of enemies. People who I showed disdain for, and would happily return such feelings. People in the workplace, people in the neighborhood. Hell, even what was left of my family at the time had felt deep resentment towards me. Funny enough, despite the heavy torment I faced at their hands in childhood, even when I did all that I could to prove them wrong, they didn't seem satisfied.

When I went back to the computer and turned the monitor on, I was immediately met by something curious. There, right next to the first app, stood another. It was a notepad with a title named after me. I spun my head around in a swivel-like motion, looking for any other entities within the room. There was nobody there except me. Not only that, but there were no entry points into the room either. No doors, no windows, and upon further inspection I found no sign of hidden hatches either. There was absolutely no way another person could have gotten in, leading me to believe that the app had appeared all by itself.

Realizing once more that I truly had nothing better to do, I clicked on the notepad and watched as the document opened. Several paragraphs of text sat before me. After reading the document, I realized that unlike the video files, it didn't detail the events which took place while I was alive. Rather, it was an article describing what happened after I died. I felt my eyebrows rise while my eyes scanned the screen, taking in the information presented to me. While I can't remember the exact words I read, I can paraphrase what they said.

In summary, after I died there were several suspects the police rounded up and interrogated. I recognized each of the names listed by the article as people I had come into contact with in life. My experiences with all of them were, needless to say, negative. In all fairness, there were plenty of people who would have the motive to murder me, but not a single one was found guilty. According to the article, all who were questioned were eventually released due to "insufficient evidence", although I found that rather hard to believe. Despite not wanting to believe it, a part of me felt as if the case wasn't taken as seriously due to my reputation around the community. Still, none of it mattered now. Not anymore.

When I moved past that part of the article, I found that the topic had shifted from the strange circumstances surrounding my death to the impact on my community. My house had been put on the market, but nobody would buy it. Big shock that nobody would buy a house where someone had been murdered. What had once been a dead zone during the holidays became a neighborhood attraction for some of the younger kids, especially during Halloween. It was at that moment during the reading that I froze, my face completely blank. My house had been an annual attraction for pesky teenagers, meaning...it had been years since I died. I placed my head in my hands and took several deep breaths.