This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Quiet_Improvement_39 on 2024-09-08 21:22:44+00:00.

A few weeks ago, I bought a Ring camera for my front door. I live in a quiet suburban neighborhood, and I never thought I’d need it. The only reason I installed it was because of a recent string of break-ins nearby. I figured having some peace of mind wouldn’t hurt.

The first couple of weeks were uneventful. The camera picked up the occasional stray cat or delivery truck, but nothing out of the ordinary. That all changed last night.

At around 3 AM, my phone buzzed with a notification: “Motion detected at your front door.” Half-asleep, I figured it was a passing car or a raccoon. I’ve had false alarms before, so I didn’t think much of it. I swiped open the app, expecting to see nothing but an empty porch or maybe the neighborhood cat wandering around.

Instead, I saw… me.

Standing on my front porch, facing directly into the camera, was someone who looked exactly like me. They were wearing the same clothes I had on that night—gray sweatpants and a faded t-shirt. Same messy hair, same tired look on their face. I blinked a few times, trying to shake the grogginess and make sense of what I was seeing.

I’m inside my house. In my bed. But there I was, staring at myself on the screen.

At first, I thought it was a glitch—maybe the camera had picked up a reflection, or maybe it was delayed footage of me going outside earlier. But I hadn’t been outside all night. And the more I stared, the more I realized something was off. The figure on the screen wasn’t moving. It just stood there, staring directly into the camera, watching… like it was waiting.

I watched for a minute, my heart racing, expecting the figure to move, to do something. But it didn’t. It remained completely still, like a mannequin. It didn’t even blink.

I thought about getting up and checking the door, but the idea of confronting that thing—or whatever it was—made my skin crawl. So, instead, I just watched, phone clutched in my shaking hands, heart pounding in my ears. The camera feed stayed live the entire time, no glitch, no interruption, but the figure never moved an inch.

After about five minutes, I finally worked up the nerve to check the timestamp on the footage. 3:04 AM. I watched for another minute, but nothing changed. Still, I stayed glued to the screen, waiting for the figure to leave. It didn’t.

By 3:15, I was losing my nerve. What the hell was going on? I clicked out of the app and sat there, sweating and wide awake. It took all my willpower not to immediately pack up and drive to a friend’s house, but a part of me was convinced it was some elaborate prank, something explainable.

When I finally mustered the courage to open the app again, the camera was back to its normal empty view. No figure, no one standing there. It was like it had vanished the moment I closed the app.

This morning, I checked the footage. But when I scrolled back to the time of the notification, the video wasn’t there. Everything before and after 3 AM was recorded as usual—just not that particular time frame. Like it had been erased.

I spent the entire day trying to rationalize it. Maybe the camera glitched, maybe someone was messing with me. I even told myself it was just a dream—something my groggy brain had cooked up in the middle of the night.

But tonight, I’m not so sure.

It’s happening again.

I just got another notification: “Motion detected at your front door.” And there I am. On the screen, standing perfectly still, just like last night.

I haven’t moved from my bed. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been staring at the feed for nearly 10 minutes now, and the figure still hasn’t moved. Same clothes, same blank expression.

No one else is awake, and I’m too terrified to go to the door and look for myself. I feel trapped in my own home.

What scares me the most isn’t that I’m seeing myself on the screen.

It’s that this time, the figure is closer to the door.