Screentime - Full Story

Section One

Discord. A widely known chatting platform I never thought would turn on me. My name is Magnus, and I talk on Discord all day, everyday. My parents tend to get annoyed when I don't spend time with them and instead spend time on Discord. It's the one place where I feel comfortable about myself and don't have to worry about being hurt by bullies physically.

When I go to school, there's this group of kids called the Pacifists, and they're the exact opposite of their group name. They punch kids, fight them and harass them. They one time even fought the principal, and she wound up calling the police. The police said that she had no proof of them doing this because she had no written form or any eyewitnesses. Instead, The Pacifists turned on the principal and said she was the one who did it all, showing off fake bruises and scratches. She was arrested for assault on five counts, since there were five girls in the group.

The Pacifists do use Discord but don't talk to anyone outside their friend group. They have a group DM full of who their next victims are going to be and their plans. They have spreadsheets, docs, forms, you name it. They discuss it all. Each of them have won at least once at being prom queen, hence their snobby attitudes in the group chat. They're also extremely rich for some unknown and absurd reason. Probably because they constantly scam people, but who am I to judge?

Well, it was an ordinary September day. September 1st, actually. Banners were hanging around the school that read "Welcome Students!" with streamers and flags. I had my face in my screen, as usual for a teenager like me. I was using Discord, simply watching what people had been saying in a public Minecraft Discord server. Apparently some user was underaged and was illegally using Discord. I shook my head in frustration, knowing you need to be over 13 in order to use Discord.

That's when I bumped into Stacy, leader of The Pacifists. She began yelling at me more than normal, which was odd for her. I noticed she had a black eye and cuts, along with some teeth knocked out. Apparently, her and her goons were abused by her father, who was later arrested for it. She seemed upset, angry even, about what happened. I tried to escape Stacy but she kept nagging me. Then she tried to grab my phone and look on my Discord account. I didn't want her seeing it, as I had a girlfriend on there who was 15 and from Switzerland and promised to move to our school soon. I was 15, like my girlfriend, and a complete idiot when it came to the internet. When Stacy managed to grab my phone, she looked through everything, even all my DMs, even with people I haven't spoken to in months. That's when my phone shut off. She didn't press the power button, nor did I or anyone else.

The Discord logo appeared on screen, only bloody and a blood curdling scream played from my phone. Grabbing my phone, I ran to the bathroom and hid. My phone was vibrating, yet there were no calls coming in. I pressed the power button and it turned on. My wallpaper was dark, a near black shade of grey. I put in my passcode and looked around my phone. Every app had been replaced by Discord. I had thousands of notifications from Discord. I clicked on one and it signed me in automatically, since I hadn't signed out at all. I now noticed where I was getting all the pings from - thousands of DMs from a Discord user who went by "Screentime". They kept spamming me the same thing, which was "Watching your screentime on Discord?"

Honestly, I hadn't ever thought of my screentime on Discord up until now. But I didn't really care for some reason, either. Suddenly I felt some urge. I had no desire to sleep. My drowsiness from the morning had been lifted, as if I had enough energy to go on forever.

I decided I would go to my next class, as I needed to hurry before I would be late. I sat in my first block history class and snuck my phone under the desk, spamming the same messages that were thrown back at me at this user called Screentime, the one mentioned before. It wasn't long before I was noticed and turned off my phone. My gut kept telling me to turn my phone back on, but the teacher kept glaring at me. I sighed and let my needs go. It wasn't worth it anyway.

That's when the teacher asked us to take out our computers to work on an assignment he would be assigning. Knowing that his assignments are easy, I got it done in a matter of minutes without double checking my work to make sure if it was right or not. Then I logged into Discord from my computer. I was perfectly able to do it since our school has no filter on our computers for what we search up. Honestly, it's kinda dumb for a student like me, since I'm almost failing every class. Who cares if you pay attention in class anyway? You're not gonna use the information anyway. What's the point?

When I had logged in, however, my user had been changed to Screentime and I was in no servers. I was shocked. Clyde, Discord's logo, was bloody once again. When I clicked it 15 times to reveal the easter egg, it made a blood curdling scream again and I shut my computer lid quickly, as to not be a distraction. Looking around me, everyone stared at me, some students had been watching and were horrified. I went onto my phone and my screenname was still the same, "Screentime". Did the original Screentime want me to take his role? Was I a victim of his insomnia?

I was sent to the principal's office and explained it to the principal, who was a guy who was new this year. He understood me and listened to me, unlike everyone else. He sighed and showed me his computer. He had told me he was using Discord to set up a server for the school, but, somehow, his user had been changed to mine as well. We checked our number coordinates at the end of the username and it was 1075. 1075 was an oddly strange number. Our passwords and emails were different, however. We both glanced at each other.

That night I couldn't sleep. Nor could I the next night. Or the night after that. Every single night I tried sleeping was strange. I was on Discord all day. All night. Every second of my life seemed to revolve around this simple, yet creative platform for people of all kinds. I tried drinking energy drinks but, no matter how many I drank, I always felt more and more overwhelmed, depressed and like I could stay up forever. I essentially gave up.

My hands had grown claws and my ears had become elf-like due to how much I was in the darkness in my own world. I could have cared less how I looked. I wanted this to end.

One night, I looked off my balcony. It was mid-December of 2018 and I was 17. It had been a year since the incident. My birthday was that following February 28th, and I would be turning 18. I wasn't tired, nor was I afraid of what my future was. I wanted an end to this mystery.

My hands were constantly wrapped in elastic bandages my mother had bought. She had to constantly buy more due to how bloody the ones that I had on had gotten. I could have cared less, I wanted answers. I tried contacting The Pacifists, but their group disbanded and they had me blocked everywhere. I didn't know why.

The Screentime stuff had stopped, but my phone was so buggy that I couldn't ever do anything at times and got extreme anxiety when away from Discord for too long. It wasn't long before I realized I was addicted to the internet all because I wanted the latest drama. The latest of everything was all I wanted ever.

On my balcony I stood, looking out at the snow covered grass. It was thin, but thick enough that you could tell it was snow. Standing on a chair, then the railing of the balcony, phone in my hand, I fell off the edge. My world went to complete darkness.

Then I awoke to the world of the internet.

It was my home now, my place. I looked at my body. I was still me but my eyes were red versions of Clyde. I had blood stains on my head and neck that I couldn't remove. I had on a Discord Partnered Server jacket, a shirt with a zombified Wumpus on it, navy blue jeans with holes and chains and a pair of black converse with blood and Clyde all over it. I had ear piercings and a nose piercing, and my ears were still elf-like. My eyes had bags under them, and in my hand was a can of Monster. My hair was fluffy, curly and black. I realized that I had become the new Screentime, and contained the ability to manipulate electronics and electricity. I quite liked this role.

On my phone displayed that number.

1075.

That number.

That number was everywhere.