Are you alright?  Those were the words I wanted to hear most at this exact moment, but would I ever hear them? No.  Because I sat at home lamenting over past events in which I was a complete and utter screw up.  I flipped to a blank page in my sketchbook and picked up a black colored pencil, spilling everything I was feeling onto the page in the form of a drawing.  When I sat back from the paper I had been furiously sketching upon for more than half an hour, it showed a woman on her knees crying into her hands.  Her long black hair hid half of her face as streams of blue tears came out from underneath the frayed bangs, contrasting with the blood red sunset I had drawn behind her.

Those three colors were the color of my soul.  Black for lonliness, red for hatred, and blue for sadness.  I flicked through the rest of the sketchbook to look at previous pictures drawn by me.  Some pages were adorned with morbid pictures with red splashed everywhere on the picture, others with no color that looked like a picture from long ago.  A good majority of the drawings were a blend of all three colors though.  Today the anger was aimed at me, the sadness from being by myself for so long, and the loneliness was always a present factor in my daily life, so there was always black in my artwork.  

I sighed out loud and laid on my back staring at the ceiling.

"What do you really want?" I questioned out loud to myself, pondering what I had just said.  What did I truly want? I had already pushed the other members so far away and isolated myself because I felt like a bother to everyone else...but why wasn't I content with becoming part of the background in their eyes like I had wished so many times? Did I want to be acknowledged? Did I want someone to notice how down and out I was?  All these questions swirled in my head.  I simply didn't know anymore.

Growling in frustration, I sat up and snapped my sketchpad closed just as the rest of Super Junior burst through the front door.  A majority of them were drunk from the celebration party they had after tonight's win on music bank.  Eunhyuk was dragging along an uncooperative Donghae, Ryeowook was being supported by Yesung and Sungmin, and Leeteuk was asleep, drooling, on Shindong's back as they all trudged into the house making a ruckus.

I, of course, did not attend the after party because, honestly, what was the use?  I was there when we won the award, but I took a separate vehicle home the instant the show was over.  Nobody noticed me sitting on the living room floor, clutching my sketchbook to my chest.  They all paraded past like I was a piece of furniture.

I quickly scurried into my room, scoffing at myself, "Why did you think they'd pay attention to you today? It's not like they would've noticed you on a normal day."  I silently agreed with myself, entering the room that I shared with Sungmin.  For the second time today, I don't know why, but I expected him to say hi or at least look up, but there was no such reaction.  Why was I being so naive today? I don't know why anything would change, but this feeling of being excluded and forgotten about was finally taking it's toll on me, I could feel it.  Sure, I did bring this upon myself, but am I regretting those words I said a few months back.

--

"LEAVE ME ALONE, IT'S NOT LIKE YOU CARE ANYWAYS!!" I screamed at Leeteuk flinging his arms off of me, even though it was killing me inside to yell at him like this.  All of Super Junior was standing looking at me and Leeteuk fight.  I turned and pointed at all of them, "And every single one of you.  How can you even say you want me to be here?! LAST TIME I CHECKED, ONLY TWO OUT OF ALL OF YOU WANTED TO HAVE ME IN THIS BAND!"   Everyone in the room knew that was years ago, but they also knew I was still upset by it.

"Kyuhyun calm down," Leeteuk said, gritting his teeth, "we just need to sit down and work this out."

"Umm how about no?  I have an idea, how about you leave me alone and stop bothering me!" I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to seem as angry as possible.

"Fine, our little SPOILED maknae, the band as a whole will take you up on this little...offer.  Nobody will talk to you nor acknowldge you from this day on, so I hope you're happy." Leeteuk said in the coldest voice I had ever heard him use, and from that day on it was like I never existed to them.  I was happy for a few days that a screw up such as myself wasn't burdening them with my needs and mistakes anymore, but then slowly I began getting lonelier, regretting hurthing them to the extent that they had nothing to do with me.  I finally realized I needed them a month after I blew up at Leeteuk.

--

Slipping the sketchbook under my pillow, I couldn't help but heave a sigh.  I needed someone to talk to, but who did I have here?  A diary sounded like a good idea, until I figured that somebody could easily read it, so I opted on a stuffed animal I could talk to.  I could go tomorrow...alone...like always.  For the first time since the incident I felt tears prickle in my eyes as I repeated the word 'alone' in my head repeatedly.  Refusing to seem weak, I blinked them back and switched the lights off without asking Sungmin.  He didn't protest, so I assumed he was ready to sleep too.  Giving a shaky sigh, I settled myself into bed and shut my eyes waiting for sleep to come.

I began having nightmares that my drawings had some to life and I was completely mute.  Unable to call for help as they relentlessly tortured and attacked me spitting insults, screaming, "this is your fault!!"  I shot up from my sleep with a small gasp.  My body broke out in a cold sweat causing me to shiver, but it wasn't just the cold that was making me shake.  The images of my nightmare were burned into my eyes, making me all the more afraid to fall asleep.  I needed to calm down, I needed to draw something, anything.  

Fumbling around on my bedside table, I found my tiny reading flashlight.  I pulled my sketchbook from underneath my pillow and opened it to a page with no marks.  I searched my bedside table once again, finding a purple colored pencil.  It would have to do.

"Perfect..." I breathed out after my work was done.  An image of a child crouched in fear hiding under a blanket occupied the whole page.  My hands were still shaking as I tucked away my sketchpad once again.  Not wanting to lose the purple pencil, I slid it under my pilow, safely next to my sketchbook.  Forcing myself to close my eyes, I fell asleep again, plummeting straight into more nightmares.

A/n:  Just in case any of you are generally confused (by my inability to write) Kyuhyun is feeling like he is bothering the rest of Super Junior and just wants them to not worry about him, but they don't stop worrying about him and it frustrates him.  So he felt like the only way to get them to stop worrying was to make them hate him and ignore him, which he achieved by screaming at them.  I hope that makes a little bit more sense now...and I hope that this chapter didn't stink... ^^"  This chapter was mostly to explain what's going on...I think? but I do hope you will stick around for the whole story ^_^ Thank you to my readers, silent readers, subscribers, and commenters! I really appreciate it :D See ya next chapter~!