I Found a YouTube Channel That Shows Me Sleeping — But I Live Alone

This is going to sound fake.

And I get it. If I read this, I’d probably think someone was trying to write creepypasta or go viral. But if even one person believes me, then maybe I’m not going crazy. Maybe someone out there has seen what I’ve seen.

It started on a Thursday night around 2 AM.

I was bored, couldn’t sleep. Just laying there, scrolling through YouTube when I saw something strange in my “recommended” feed. It was a channel with no name — just blank. Literally “——” for the title. The thumbnail looked black, like a glitch.

The video title was just my full name.

That’s what made me click.

The video was about 7 minutes long, titled:

“huzaifa khan - 03:12 AM.”

The video opened with silence. Just grainy black-and-white footage of a room. It took me a second to realize — it was my bedroom.

My actual room. My bed. My desk. My ugly green blanket.

And there I was.

Sleeping.

I watched myself roll over once, mumble something, and then freeze. Not like normal sleep-freeze. I mean I literally didn’t move again for the next 5 minutes. Just frozen, mouth slightly open, eyes flickering like a glitch in a game.

I paused the video. Tried to rationalize. Maybe someone pranked me? Maybe a roommate?

But I live alone.

I live in a top-floor apartment. Door locked. No cameras. No friends with keys. No smart devices.

I refreshed the page.

Another video appeared.

This one titled:

“huzaifa khan - 03:12 AM [loop 2]”

Same room. Different angle.

This time the camera was near my closet. I hadn’t moved at all. But now, something else moved.

In the dark corner, just behind the half-closed door — something blinked.

It wasn’t human. The eyes were too far apart. Too still. But it watched me.

Until the very end of the video, where it moved forward — frame by frame — until it filled the screen.

The video ended before I could see its face.

I slammed my laptop shut. Couldn’t breathe. I wanted to leave but my legs wouldn’t move. I just sat there, sweating, telling myself it had to be a hoax.

Then I heard a ding.

A notification.

From YouTube.

The channel had just uploaded a new video.

Titled:

“He’s watching.”

It was scheduled for 3:12 AM.

20 minutes from now.

I waited, not knowing why. Just sat in bed, door locked, kitchen knife beside me, phone in hand, waiting for something.

When the video finally went live, I clicked it instantly.

It was a livestream.

Again, my room. Again, me.

But this time…

I wasn’t asleep.

I was looking straight into the camera.

Not blinking. Not breathing.

But I wasn’t moving either.

I was still in bed, watching the stream.

But the me on the screen — he started to smile.

I freaked out. I covered my webcam. I unplugged my laptop. Turned off my phone. Shut the lights.

And I waited.

Until exactly 3:12 AM.

There was a knock at my door.

Not loud. Just a soft, rhythmic tap.

Like someone wanted me to know they were there, but wasn’t in a rush.

I didn’t open it.

Eventually, it stopped.

The next morning, the channel was gone. No trace. No video history. Nothing in my browser history either.

But here’s the part that still messes with me:

The next night, when I tried to sleep — I felt watched. I checked every corner. Closet, bathroom, even the balcony.

Nothing.

But when I lay back down, my phone buzzed once.

No number. No notification.

Just a silent, automatic vibration — like a reminder.

When I opened it, there was a new video file in my gallery.

It was called:

“Loop 3.”

And I swear to you:

I haven’t slept since.

Closing Note:

If you ever see a YouTube video titled with your name and a timestamp…

Don’t click it.