A beginning of a story (Jackbox edition)

Never a party: Know it null

Synopsis

Imagine, if the person who has tormented you for years and years suddenly went missing, would you miss them? What if, before their disappearance, they started to treat you like the friends you once were?

Josh Schmitstinstien, known by most as Schmitty, became a victim to the person he once considered a good friend, and was tortured for three long and lonely years. Set three years after the events of Trivia Murder Party 2; he learns to readjust to being a person again, but as intrusive thoughts get louder than ever and the only roommate he has left being the worm in his brain: he knows it'll never be the same again.

This story tackles themes of depression, anxiety, PTSD and ego death.

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Three years....

Shouldn't you be over this by now?

Schmitty lies awake on his bed, time: 12:45. AM? PM? Didn't matter to him, time rarely mattered to him. The few only times he memorized it anymore is if he has work to do or pills to take, and he hasn't been working for a little over two years now. He was too tired to get up & too paranoid to rest, all he could do was ether stare at the ceiling or glance at his alarm clock.

He didn't need to take any of his pills at this time, at ether time, whatever it was. He was hungry, but not enough for it to matter. He had no one to talk to he couldn't talk to already from where he was currently. Currently being his crusty stained mattress with the world's most creakiest bed frame to have ever been manufactured in the history of civilization.

He did need to use the bathroom though, and he didn't want to go through another bladder infection.

Schmitty turned in his bed, face shoved into his musky, mustard stained pillow he hadn't washed in years, he didn't WANT to get up; all of his limbs melted into the rigid mattress like day old butter. But it was either getting up or wetting the bed again, and he doesn't appreciate thinking about the stench of the latter.

He rolled and shifted out of bed, letting his feet dangle off the edge until they touched the floor beneath him. He then slowly but surely slid off the bed, and with a push; he put all of his weight onto his tired & wobbly legs, before almost collapsing from the stress forced upon them so suddenly.

For three-ish years now he has had to learn how to walk again, do to the fact he hadn't use them much and do to the harsh punishments he faced for trying to, yet still after all this time of forcing his legs back into shape; they were still so weak. 

He quickly placed a hand onto his nightstand, barely avoiding a nasty splinter in the process, in an almost futile attempt to keep himself from falling face first into the floor. Yet somehow, he successfully stopped himself from eating floorboards for breakfast again.

That's one more accomplishment sticky note to add to the positive affirmation whiteboard, third one this week.

-"Oh wow! Up so early, what's gotten into you Schmitty?" A voice called out, mockingly.

-"Wiggly, you're not helping." Schmitty groaned. 

The worm in his head, lovingly nicknamed Wiggly, was his only constant, and currently active headmate, second to Lars. As much as he's grown disdain for the little guy, he's been his only method of social interaction for several months now.