X: So sick of life.

Mind: Life? "What life? You have no life."

X: "I guess I'm exaggerating. How can I be sick of life and everyone around me when I don't have a life? Guess it's all just in my head."

Mind: "Do not throw this on me. I didn't do this to you. You're sick of life, but you don't have one! You're a homeschooled high school student, you don't really have any hobbies, and you do mostly everything alone. You're not a very fun person to be around."

"Look at all the people around you. The few people that you know are in the process of changing their lives for the better and accomplishing high, beautiful things. Look at yourself. What can you do? What have you done? You can't do anything without money...or talent, for that matter."

"Life is supposed to consist of something. Yours doesn't consist of anything! It's a joke! I'm always in constant laughter, just giggling at the life you don't have! It's just...hilarious."

X: "But-"

Mind: "You're life is an empty ballon. It can't hold air, and there's no importance. You just...deflate.

Mind: "Let me ask you a question."

X: *sighs* "What?"

Mind: "Why are you breathing, you pathetic, complaining, lost, merely existing used cloth of brokenness? The only thing you can do well is breathe, and that's not worth you doing if you aren't important."

X knew that her mind wasn't lying to her. This was her reality, and all she could do was come to terms with it. Why shall she breathe?