Creepypasta Collection Book 1

I Hope I'm Insane

Every goddamn night this thing sits over my bed. It stares at me, it whispers things but they're inaudible. It doesn't matter how I sleep, it's there. It comes at me from all directions, it even goes through a wall. They call it sleep paralysis, and my entire life I believed they were right. Tonight was no different. It stared at me, I could move my eyes and nothing else. I was petrified.

I made a mistake, I woke my wife up, because as soon I could move with every bit of strength I could muster, and as fast I could I took a swing at the bastard. I hit air of course, it's not the first time I did it, it's not the first time I missed. My wife was angry, she went back to bed quickly though, probably won't even remember in the morning. On the other hand I can't sleep. I go down to the kitchen to get a glass of Jim Beam. The thing never bothers me when I'm drunk, or at least it's easier to sleep through.

At this point I've downed a few shots, so I may be wrong. But I hear my boy moving around his room. I go upstairs, he's sweating. I'm glad I found little Patrick before he woke my wife up. I ask him what's wrong, if he needs to pee, if he's scared of something, cold, hot, etc. You know, the usual stuff you ask your kid when he wakes up sweating at 2 AM.

He tells me something that chills me to my core...

"Daddy, he doesn't like it when you try to hit him."