[ Janis stands still in the art room for a long moment or two, staring at the door.
"It never does."
She laughs. It's not a kind laugh. ]
Why did I think she'd be different? But it's never, ever different.
[ Janis turns and puts her fist through the canvas. It doesn't help. It only earns her a splattering of paint across her knuckles. Her hand starts to shake, just a little, as some kind of emotion leaves her. ]
And I want my pink shirt.
[ Janis stays in the art room, crying, for a while. ]
no subject
"It never does."
She laughs. It's not a kind laugh. ]
Why did I think she'd be different?
But it's never, ever different.
[ Janis turns and puts her fist through the canvas. It doesn't help. It only earns her a splattering of paint across her knuckles. Her hand starts to shake, just a little, as some kind of emotion leaves her. ]
And I want my pink shirt.
[ Janis stays in the art room, crying, for a while. ]