Runaway Today

Dear Diary,

Today has been the most, random day. A day where I've acted on purely gut feeling, done things no one would've guessed the quiet little 5' 1" girl in AP Biology to ever do. To understand why and how this happened, I might as well start at the beginning...

"I wasn't about to stay in a town like this. My father always pushing me to do football non-stop to the point I didn't have a life, my mother on my case to quit football and pick up my damn grades my senior year, hoping I'd get into the best college possible... I had to leave. That place just wasn't me. It's one of those small Texas towns where high school football's everything, the quarterback (me) dates the head cheerleader (my ex) from the time he lays eyes upon her until they're officially husband and wife, where you go to the U and live there you're whole life, in that same, small Texas town. But I couldn't. You'd think it'd be hard making it on my own like this, no college education, no real talent but football. You're wrong. You have it easy but I have it the way I want it. I don't ever wanna be you.

Sincerely as I Get,
Runaway Today"

I don't ever wanna be you... I thought to my self. I don't ever wanna be me.

I closed my iBook and walked down stairs where I got a quick breakfast of fruit and G2, loathing myself for it being the summer after my senior year and not having the guts to leave this quiet Texas town like that guy. Before my mom made me go run my ass off with her again as usual (because "there is no off season in soccer, Lola") I went to the laundry room to grab a clean pair of shorts and a tank top. Matchability questionable. Socks... Find socks, of course. And shoes. Shoes are always nice. And of course the house key on a chain around my neck. Jeez, you didn't have to be properly dressed to play guitar and sing. That's my real love. Playing guitar and singing back-up for Jace...

"LOOOLLLLAAAAAAAA!"

"What, Mother?" I growled, flipping her off though she couldn't see me. Deserves it for interrupting my day dreaming.

"Are you ready yet?"

"Almost." I answered. Damn, did she drive me nuts some days. On my case all the time... Do better in soccer, score at least 3 goals a game, better have a perfect season, better do better in the 3200's in track, do better in school, spend more time with her, get your priorities straight, find a better boyfriend than him, spend less time with your friends because they're holding you back... Oh. My. God.

I finished lacing up and joined my mom in the front hall... Or so I thought. She left a note.

"By the time you get this I'll be half way down the black. If you don't catch up with me by the time I'm at the library we're going to run the 3 mile loop again."

"Shit..." I threw open the door, turned on my iPod, and took off running. Running and thinking... How is it I could be gone but I'm not? Why is it that my mom controls my life? I'm 18, shouldn't I be choosing when and how far I run? Unbelievable. Have I really sunk this low? Yes, I have. Pathetic. What else does she control... My friends, and when I see them. And talk to them. How many dates a month I'm allowed to go on with my boyfriend Jace, who she has been trying to get me to leave for the past 3 years. I think I spend more time with her and her dick-head of a husband Joshua, who she constantly calls my father, because I spend more time with him. Why? Because she won't let me see my father.

By this point I was at the library, and no signs of my mother. Keep running... I told my self. Next song flipped up on my iPod.

"It's a new day... But it all feels old.
It's a good life, that's what I'm told.
But everything, it all just feels the same.
At my high school, it felt more to me
Like a jail cell, a penitentiary
My time spent there, it only made me see
That I don't ever wanna be like you
I don't wanna do the things you do
I'm never gonna here the words you say.
And I don't ever wanna, I don't ever wanna be you..."

Just like Mr. Runaway Today said. I don't ever wanna be my mother... Old, bitchy, married to a man who's a bigger idiot than she is...

".., You, don't wanna be just like you
What I'm saying is
This is the anthem, throw all your hands up
You, I don't wanna be you."

I would love to run away from this sleepy little town. To tell my mother I don't ever want to be her, the ex-soccer star. To just play my music, I rather that was my life. It wouldn't be that hard, would it? My house keys were around my neck, the keys to my car were, well, in my car... Sneak in, pack up, leave, right? Grab my cell, seeing as I had my own plan. Call Jace and tell him we're going. It's not like I had friends to call and tell I'm gone, thanks to my mother. My train of thought was rudely interrupted by the honking of a giant black pick-up, sounding eerily close to the rhythm of "Jingle Bells." Who did that remind me of...

"Jace!" I yelled. The pick-up pulled into the parking lot of the library as the driver rolled down the window, revealing the tanned, brown eyed face of my boyfriend Jace.

"Hey beautiful," he hollered, even though I was standing there sweating in black shorts and a grey tank top. "Alas, you're pretty black hair looks so much better down..." he sighed. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry to disappoint you. What's up?" I asked him, leaning against his truck door.

"Ah, nothing I guess. Got big plans for tonight or anything?"

I thought for a second, and an evil grin came across my face.

"Whoa... I thought you said you didn't want to do that until-"

"JACE!" I yelled. He smiled, knowing he had gotten me. "I do have plans... You ever thought of running away?"

"I've only stayed because of you."

"I'm ready to go. Tonight?" I asked, the pleading in my voice obvious. Jace looked as if he were pondering, hesitating.

"Yeah. Let's go."

*

About 12 hours later, Jace brought me home to pick up everything I'd need, toss it out my bedroom window to him, and put it in my little car while all of his stuff was in this pick-up, strapped down or in the back seat.

I started with my clothes, cramming them in Wal-Mart bags and dropping them down while he threw them in my car for me. I stripped my bed, and threw it down in case we ever settled down some where. I grabbed miscellaneous things and wrapped them up in underwear so they wouldn't break, put them in the Wal-Mart sacks, and bombs away. Then it was to the bathroom, where I over heard my mom talking, the sound traveling up the vents.

"Yes, I don't where she is... No, it's not soon enough to report her missing... This morning, about 9 or 10... Are you accusing me of something?... I may have had something to do with it... I think she was striving so hard to be like me maybe she finally cracked..."

I knew it was dangerous, but I picked up some lipstick and began writing on the mirror.

"I've left, in case you haven't noticed. You're pushing me too hard to do something that I'm not that passionate about. I'm not doing it any more. Don't bother reporting me missing, I'm 18 which is something you've obviously forgotten. I may be back sometime. Then again, maybe not. One last thing, I don't ever wanna be you."