Directed by John Strysik (who also directed Darkside episodes like “Anniversary Dinner“) and written by Jule Selbo from a story by Ann MacKenzie, this feels like a standard, slightly muted 1980s kitchen-sink drama at first. We’ve got Flora (Helen Duffy), her oldest daughter, Libby (Loren Cedar), Libby’s fiancé, Max Smith (played by a pre-Dream On Brian Benben!) and the youngest daughter, Karen.

Karen is played by a very young Alison Sweeney, long before she became a daytime TV staple on Days of Our Lives. She’s shy, she’s quirky, and she has a habit that goes from endearing to absolutely terrifying in about three seconds flat. She has a gift. Or a curse. When she looks someone in the eye, places her hands on their face, and softly chants “Goodbye… goodbye… goodbye,” you might as well start picking out a casket.

The nightmare starts when she does it to her own mother right before a freak fatal accident in the kitchen. Suddenly, the living room isn’t safe anymore. Before long, she’s handing out goodbyes to her best friend Susie, and eventually, she sets her sights on Libby’s fiancé, Max.

Look, the easy route for a show like Tales from the Darkside would be to make Karen a mini-Freddy Krueger or a bad-seed killer using telekinetic powers to slaughter her family. But what makes this episode stick in your craw is the tragic twist of logic: Karen isn’t killing anyone. She’s a precog. She just knows when the Grim Reaper is walking through the front door and lacks the emotional maturity to do anything other than say farewell.

The real horror here isn’t the deaths themselves. It’s the absolute destruction of the family dynamic. Libby and Max start looking at this little girl like she’s a loaded gun walking around the house. You can feel the sweat and the sheer terror every time Karen walks into a room. Karen is completely isolated by her knowledge. Imagine being a kid, seeing the metaphorical countdown timer above everyone you love’s head, and realizing you’re completely powerless to stop it.

Spoiler: Max’s death is rough. He has an asthma attack and slowly loses his ability to breathe as he begs for his life.

“I Can’t Help Saying Goodbye” shows just how versatile this show could be when it relied on atmosphere and tight scripting over special effects budgets. It’s an unsettling, somber piece of 80s anthology television that lingers long after the credits roll.