Taking into account the need to release her desperation, Janet made her way to the washroom. Attending an art gallery opening deemed to be frustrating and demanding in presenting sophistication. Growing up with a wealthy family and stress on becoming successful, captured Janet in a perfect setting. Everything must be perfect, her actions, her attitude and her future preparations.
Turning on the hot water tap and dipping her hands under its rushing stream, Janet realized she needed to get away. She needed to escape this life that her relatives and surroundings had placed upon her. She needed to be spontaneous, experience things that would be frowned upon by family and endless acquaintances. She didn't want her picture perfect persona. Janet wanted to be someone else, if it were only for a day.
Patting the warm water along her nape, she turned off the tap and dried her hands.
'Must I return to that assembly of fake people and practiced conversation?'
Janet contemplated this question, took a long look around the washroom searching for any exits. None.
'I must.'
Stepping into the vast gallery, she tugged her turquoise skirt down into a perfect drape. Her black collared shirt with a set of silk ruffles down the middle, allowed her to fit in perfectly. Taking a glance at the familiar faces, Janet walked towards a picture hanging on the far wall. Picking up a glass of champagne from a young blond caterer, she studied the art. It displayed a young girl standing in the middle of a crowd. There were few colours in the painting because the girl was the only one painted in them. She was surrounded by black and white shadows of people. It seemed to her this painting was portraying the young girls need to be alive, to be free and away from the boring others she finds herself intoxicated by. Janet thought this was her, standing lonely and yet amidst conversation. She was fed up.
'I'm getting out of here.'
Rushing through the judging eyes, Janet left the glass on a nearby table and rushed towards the exit. Stepping into the drizzling rain, she realizes that it is not the settings that must change, but it is herself she must amend. Stepping back into the gallery she lets go of all expectations placed upon her, and lets her personality run through the crowd. The cage that she has been living has been the fear of being herself, of letting go of the routines that had been engraved into her. Speaking without care for her appropriateness, giggling without reminding herself that she cannot draw excessive attention and being affectionate without the suffocating bubble of loneliness. Finally, Janet had a night worth remembering; a night worth reliving; a night of self-actualization.
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