This is for @CharoletteBuurn 's writing contest with the theme of "Black Hole".

WARNING! This is a really emotionally heavy piece with implications of some pretty dark themes.

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Xisuma had never felt more empty. So weak, yet holding so much power in his hands. So broken, yet so destructive. He could feel the power he held, but he couldn't contain it, couldn't control or use it.

Empty smiles hidden behind tinted visors, scars hidden behind armor and meaningless words. He was nothing but an empty pit— a black hole. Everything he tried to fix, everything he tried to touch, ended up ruined, destroyed, and useless.

Useless— just like him.

How could they not see it? They looked to him, HIM in times of need. They brought their problems, their traumas, their flaws, but all he did was make things worse. He couldn't ignore their scars. They were way too similar to his own, but they didn't know.

Would they be disappointed? Would they turn around a kick him out like the disease he was?

They couldn't see past his years worth of perfectly crafted masks. He knew what they were going through all too well. He couldn't help them, he couldn't even help himself. Still they would come back, time and time again.

"Hey X, you feeling alright?" He hadn't expected that. Had his mask finally begun to slip up? These words stirred something in him. He wanted to tell the truth, wanted to reveal how empty and broken he was.

"I'm fine"

Those words slipped off his tongue, muscle memory after so much practice. This well crafted lie had worked so flawlessly before. He regretted ever creating it.

"Are you sure?"

No. He was anything but fine. He was falling apart, breaking at every little crack and seam. His lip trembled. Could they finally see the true him?

"Yeah, just a little tired."

It was more than just a little. Every move was antagonizing, every shift cutting right to his core. He knew that it was just a matter of time. Either he or his body were going to break and reveal all of the cracks, all of the unhealed scars.

He could feel them now. Every little cut, burn, and bruise. He felt the pain every waking moment. How could he forget? How could he possibly stop feeling the pain? He did deserve it after all.

He tried to ignore the disappointment on their face. "Okay X, if you're sure."

He wanted to take it back, take back all of his lies. Finally tell the truth and let his scars come to the light. Instead he turned and walked away from his friends. He wasn't trying to hide the tears, he just had things to do.

Their gazes burned into him. Could they finally see him breaking? Surely they were going to kick him out. They didn't need him, not really. Doc, False, TFC, Joe... they could take care of this server without him. He was just an admin. He could be replaced. Just like he did when GenerikB left. He was nothing more than a weak replacement this whole time. This was all just a matter of time.

"X we are just worried." He spun around and looked Cleo in the eye. There was no sign of disdain in her eyes, just understanding. Of course it would be her. She knew what it was like to stitch yourself up in the night.

"We think you are overworking yourself." That was Scar. X almost laughed as the hypocrisy. That man most certainly did not have a healthy work schedule. He saw how much Scar would work, far longer than all of the Hermits. (X didn't need to be included in that count, his work was important).

"I'm fine. I promise I'll go to bed soon," he lied. He couldn't fall asleep, that's when the nightmares would strike.

The sun was setting in the distance. It was going to be another sleepless night. X moved, hoping they didn't realize why.

Cub noticed. "Xisuma, move out from under the tree." 

X glanced up at the wood block above him. He needed a solid block above him, and he knew what would happen if it weren't there. It had happened before.

"Xisuma," Tango had caught on. "How long has it been since you last slept?"

He swallowed, forcing the lies already building up in his throat down. There was no use lying about that. If he moved, the phantoms would be sure to give him away. The phantoms he had started to gather have gotten to where they could actually be deadly, no matter how good X was getting at killing them. He had learned to work inside after last disaster.

"I don't know." Finally, some truth. It was weak, but X didn't truly know when he had managed to sleep last. He had tried a few nights ago, but the memories of those eyes burning into him made him toss and turn all night. He had given up trying at this point.

"X," the disappointment and concern in Stress' voice stung. She had come over countless times, finding him half asleep over one project or another and every time ended up the same. He would get dragged to bed, she would go and fuss over one thing or another, and Stress would have pancakes made in the next eight hours. She always pushed for ten, but she knew of his nightmares. Some of those nights were worse than others, but they always ended up the same. Eight hours later, eating some pancakes with natural yogurt and blueberries, his favorite.

Against his better judgement, his limbs moved without his control. His body seemed better off without him. He had already done so much to hurt it. He almost made it away from their concerned gazes, but then he made a fatal move. He started to waver in his step. I guess it was going to be his body that gave out first. the sound of phantoms and worried shouts rang out around him as his conciousness fled to the darkness, the black hole that he could never escape from. He wondered if anyone even cared...

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Thank you all so much for reading! You should go check out Charolette Buurn. Her writing is absolutely amazing!

I hope that you all have sweet dreams

-J