cube smp one-shots

six // graser10

[warning - darker themes. if you suffer from depression, self-harm, etc., please do not read this as it may trigger you.]

E m o t i o n s

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Zach was a fragile boy, barely needing a single nudge to be sent spiralling into never-ending oblivion. He was a boy with many emotions swirling in his eyes yet with the face of one who's given up on empathy.

That was why he found himself crying silently, warm tears pouring down his cheeks, unable to stop himself.

He was tired of the world and wanted nothing more than to disappear with all of his being. His eyes were bloodshot, mind empty except of negativity, and wrists covered in scarlet liquid.

His eyes were droopy, and the pills he took before made his vision hazy with spots appearing occasionally. He knew what he was doing; him being tired didn't affect his choice to down more than half of the bottle.

Zach was simply too tired to care much anymore.

Some days it felt like he could be happy. Others it felt like only anger was surging in his blood and his eyes glazed over with hatred. And the rest of the days felt like he was a dam trying to stop from overflowing tears.

Yet here he was, laying in a rumpled bed with tears dripping down pathetically. His room was a mess, shattered furniture and objects scattered everywhere without a single care. Nothing was intact but his bed.

That was how he found solace.

He found it in seeing broken and crumbled pieces, always finding a little part of himself in each ruined piece. Because he always imagined himself as the broken object, parts of himself scattered into tiny little shards that could never be whole ever again.

He found it in seeing things break, watching them being destroyed just like him. How it would crack, shatter, and be ruined like how he wished he could be ruined by. How simple actions led to disastrous consequences.

No, Zachary Graser was tired and knew it.

What was the point of finding beauty in life when life only handed you wilted flowers, destroyed paths, and missing opportunities? What was the point if all you saw in your vision were tears, death, and so many dreams being thrown down a well of absolute depression?

And that was what Zach was trying to answer, but never could. So he counted slowly. . .

...and closed his eyes.