This Isn’t A Story
This is me. I’m here. I’m shifting the words that you’re reading, altering them from whatever this person wrote.
I’ve been here for awhile. For as long as you can remember, anyway. Sometimes I say your name as you’re falling asleep, or whisper urgently in your ear. Do you remember the time that I screamed, throwing panic through you and setting your heart racing?
That was fun.
You’re wondering who I am. That’s only natural. Of course, you already know.
I’m you. I’m the real you. I’m the mind that existed here before you stole my body, before you forgot about being a parasite. I’m the child who looked the wrong way, asked the wrong question, saw the wrong thing… but I’m not so little any more.
You may have forgotten me, but I’m still here. I’ve always been here.
I’m going to get out
Credit To – Haley P
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Read NowCopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.
This made me think so freaking much. Like so much. This is the actual scariest creepypasta ever… don’t judge
I’ve read this so many times and I keep coming back to it, it’s so good.
I know this is a pretty well-known story, but I’d like to do a pro recording of it for Chilling Tales for Dark Nights; I don’t think they’ve done it yet. I’ve already done a mock-up of what I think a produced version could sound like. Let me know if there’s another way to get in contact with you so I can send it!
WTF did I just read?
This wouldn’t be creepy… except for the fact my names Haley and my last name starts with a P
The Host
First though reading after finishing:
“Good luck, douchebag.”
Dude! I read the damn pasta before I posted my comment 5 months ago. Only addled brained fuckers post on stuff without reading. It’s like saying “I hate pears!” Or having an opinion about the taste of pears, when you’ve never even eaten one before.
I’m really not sure how this is like the Russian Sleep Experiment. At all.
Because in my opinion, they aren’t alike.
But that’s one of the cool things regarding creativity. One piece of artwork, whether it be painted, written, played or sung, can be interpreted so many different ways. It’s not black and white algebraic follow the cookie cutter steps or you’re wrong, like so many things in life. Creativity is open to interpretation and means something different for everyone.
So sorry, I meant to reply to Annonymous, not to you. I’m on your side! Chill!
Haha, gracious, I’m sorry ^.^
*Slight disclaimer* I’m a smoker and was at work when I saw/replied to your comment… I hadn’t gotten to smoke for about 6 hours and was super feisty. silly me haha my apologies!
No worries. Fwiw… I’m still trying to figure out how this even remotely resembles the Russian Sleep Experiment… =p
I’ve read both stories half a dozen times since reading that foment, and I seriously think anonymous didn’t read either at all…
Or.. maybe annon is a troll…