Room 323 [Monday, Evening]
Traditionally, Effy's way of dealing was to isolate herself from everything and everyone.
Most of the weekend had been spent self medicating and sleeping, and trying to ignore whatever the fuck was going on outside her window. Things were trippy enough insider her head without adding flying turtles and mushrooms to the mix.
She'd had to sober up today, go to class, and just deal with it. Which had gone okay when she'd been listening to classmates and teachers, but was less okay once she was back here and had nothing to keep her mind occupied and no vodka or pills to mute it all with. This systematic destruction of magazines, books, newspaper and whatever else she could get her hands on was a product of that need to do and distract in any way possible.
There was a certain morbid theme developing as she spread all her little scraps of paper around her spot on the bed. It appeared there was some kind of order to it all with the way she was laying things out, but unless you were her, the finer details most likely escaped you.
Which would be a good thing.
[[ Warning for mental instability and mentions of substance abuse. The door is closed, but the post can be open if anyone particularly wants to deal with her. ]]