Creeps

“Why do you look at me like that?” Asked my confused sleep paralysis demon, who is standing at the foot of my bed right now. “It’s like you’eve seen a ghost.” I could’t respond to him; if I could, I would have asked him politely to leave. He looks at me with a hint of annoyance,

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Say something to me.” He looked at my face a few moments more, analyzing my features, before sighing. “Fine I’ll say it. Please.”

"I do not think we've met before," I said. "Or if we did, I do not remember it." He gave me a puzzled look and took a picture out of his back pocket.

"That looks exactly like me. But I'm sure it's not me. I don't like you. Who keeps a picture of me just in case? Are you a creep? Also this picture is poorly hand drawn." I said to the police officer while hiding in some bushes.

You detectives are totally obsessed with me, it’s honestly kind of weird, you know? Stalker much? Bad things happen to people who harass me, you know.