Taking a Stab at Something New

So lately I've been looking up creepypastas because I love being scared. And I think I'd be really good at making some creepypastas. I don't know. I have this idea for one, but I feel like it won't be very good at all. Obviously I'm not looking for it to catch on and go viral, but at the same time...that would be pretty darned cool. My idea for the creepypasta is based on reality. Something that has actually happened to me. You know how in my last post I was talking about dreams and how they're real to me? Well, when I lived with my parents I was plagued almost monthly with demon dreams. Each dream would progress in intensity. For instance, I would have a dream where demons would be attacking a city and to save everyone I had to pretend I was a demon until I could eventually overtake them. And then a few weeks later I would have dreams where I was sitting in a bar and a group of demons walks in carrying a cross and crucifying Jesus in front of me (and only me) with red candles and then light the candles and laugh at me (that one disturbed me...a lot). And then a few weeks later it would actually get to the point where I would be possessed. I don't remember the last time I had a very intense demon dream. Like I said they only really happened whenever I was at my parents house which I think is really strange and I really don't like going back there. Especially because that creepy Snuggle Bear moves around on its own. Anyway...there was this one demon dream that really stuck out to me which I wanted to use as a creepypasta, but I don't know how start it. So I'm just going to say my dream and if anybody out there wants to form it into a creepypasta and post it all over the internetz feel free. You'll probably take the credit for it and all, but honestly I don't care because I already know it happened to me personally and internet arguments are never a good thing.

You know how dreams always start in the middle of an event and you don't really know how you got to where you are, but it still makes sense? At the time, most of my dreams were in the third person. I would be me, but I would be witnessing somebody else's dream or the main "character" would be someone else and I would be watching in a birds-eye view. It wasn't like I was someone else and I would be going through the motions in somebody else's body like a lot of peoples' dreams are; I was actually watching the events go on like a ghost. Nobody would notice me. I was just a phantom. Well, that's how this dream started out. I was floating up in a corner of a room. Somebody else's living room. Nothing was going on. I was just watching a family go through a normal day. There was a son and a mother that I can remember. But they didn't know I was there. Nobody EVER knew I was there. But the front door opened in this family's living room and a man walked in wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt. And as soon as he walked in I knew he was a demon. The first thing he did when he stepped into the room was look up in the corner of the ceiling where I was and he smiled. It was a malicious smile. It scared me because there was no way of knowing that I was there. I was so scared that I shot awake and I looked over the side of my bed and I swear on my life that I saw a figure standing next to my bed staring at me wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt. Of course when I shot up and blinked a few times it disappeared, but it still scared the crap out of me. It still freaks me out. I hate going to my parents house especially if I know I have to sleep there. It's the worst. And that's it. That's the scary dream/waking life event that has scarred me for forever. The end.