Mimiru glances at her phone wearily as it gave an obnoxious buzz.  For the first time in a solid day, she actually bothered to flip it open and see what it had to say: 17 unread text messages, 3 missed calls.  The majority of them were from Tomoe, no doubt; normally she at least gave her a heads-up if she was going to skip out on school completely.  The tired punkette snapped the flip-phone shut, bringing her cigarette back up to her lips to draw a generous drag.<br/><br/><strong>"Do you think you can close your eyes and just wish it all away?"</strong><br/><br/>Mimiru's eyes went to the closed phone at first, almost wishfully.  A moment later she heaved out the entirety of the smoke she had inhaled in one massive, deflating sigh, not even bothering to remove the cigarette from between her lips as she mumbles by way of response, "That's how it's going to be, huh?  I'm going to start hearing some goddamn voices?  Aces."<br/><br/><strong>"I'm every bit as real as you are.  No one may notice when I'm not around, but are you really any better of--"</strong><br/><br/>"Hey!" Mimiru chirps in a mock-helpful tone, mercifully up in her room where no one else has to bear witness to how frighteningly insane the scene playing out must look.  "I've got an idea!   How about you just go ahead and shut your filthy fucking cock-holster, eh?"  The teen glances back over her shoulder, half-expecting some umbral nothing of a fiend to rip itself free of the shadows and come at her.  The shade cast by the objects in her room remains politely mundane, however.  Another sigh slumps her shoulders; she had almost wished the shadow-thing would pop up, as in some sick way it would mean her hallucinations were encapsulated entirely in all-out episodes of psychosis.  The thought that she's starting to hear voices while otherwise lucid is somewhat less than comforting.<br/><br/><strong>"So much anger.  And for what?  Because life hasn't been good enough for you?  Because you aren't talented enough?"</strong><br/><br/>Mimiru pushes through the door into the common hallway, heading toward the stairs.  Aware that someone might be listening, she restrains herself to mumbling out the side of her mouth, "Piss off."<br/><br/><strong>...  Because you aren't smart enough?</strong><br/><br/>"Piss off!" Mimiru growls, angrier and louder, as she begins to take the stairs at a clipped pace, as if hustling that little bit will let her outrun whatever disembodied voice is dogging her down the hall.  The increasingly irate teen reaches the ground floor in no time at all, stomping through the commons in an obvious huff.<br/><br/><strong>...  Because you weren't <em>good</em> enough.  The only real problem with your life has always been <em>you</em>, hasn't it?</strong><br/><br/>That gave the rocker chick pause for a moment, right there standing before the front door of the dormitory.  Her hands ball into fists and shove straight down at her sides, rising up on her tip-toes with her back arched like a hissing cat, pitching forward slightly with the sheer intensity of her emphatic outburst, "Fuck off you goddamn piece of shit!  Grab hold of yourself by your fucking lipstick dick, bend over the fuck backwards, and cram that angry inch right up your own blown-out cumdump of a shit-chute, you cock-sucking, shit-eating, cum-guzzling goat-fuck bitch!"<br/><br/>There's a long moment afterward where she just stands there, panting slightly and red-faced from a combination of the sheer fury and volume of her tirade and a twinge of embarrassment at having exploded so publicly at what amounts to her imaginary friend.  Her nostrils flare and her eyes remain slightly widened, trembling with incoherent rage for what seems like a very long time before the apparent absence of further berating from her incorporeal tormentor starts her toward calming down.