What can I tell you about the 90s? Well, not much. I know that Kurt Cobain died in that decade. I know the Soviet Union collapsed in that decade. I know the World Wide Web came to fruition in that decade. And there was something else... Oh, yeah. I died in that decade. Sorry about the bluntness of those words. My name is Meg Stuart. I died, and there's no escape from that fact. I took my last breath at 12:29, May 10th, 1994. My watch had remained mercifully clean during the whole bloody process, and I had watched it tick down the last seconds of my life. Even if I hadn't had a great memory for numbers, there would have been no way I could forget that date. It was the thing I dwelled on constantly on the Other Side. I had been a witch when I died, and thusly had ended up in that supernatural agony for twenty years, with only my acidic thoughts for company. And that's when things really started going wrong. All credit goes to L.J Smith and the creators of the TV show.