Reforming Society •• OneRepublic {2}

Flashback 5: Change

Ramona never ran, she never had the guts to. The only running Ramona Wood ever did was through boxes of unconventional hair dyes.

She was barely fifteen when she found a local hairdresser who would dye her hair dark green. After Ramona had demanded that she do so, waving wrinkled bills stolen from her mother's purse, and she was sitting in the chair with hair that was no longer brown, the hairdresser asked her, "You're barely fifteen, why do you want this so bad?"

Ramona replied, "My life has changed a lot in the past few years. I think it's time I start changing with it."

Perhaps that was one of the only ways Ramona could cope with everything. At least, one of the only non-destructive ways, unless one counted hair damage. Yet even her hair couldn't be as damaged as she herself was, even with all the bleach in the world.

No matter the means of her coping, though, she got there. They were nearing the end of the alphabet at graduation, and they'd finally reached the last names starting with "Wo." Roswell High School did things differently - everyone got to go to the ceremony with a cap and gown, but those who weren't certain they were to graduate were merely piles of anxiety in uncomfortable metal seats.

Yet "Wood, Ramona" was called and with baby pink hair and shaking, sweaty hands, Ramona rose to her feet. It seemed that walking down the aisle on black carpet, other students in the seats staring at her, took an eternity. Ramona's ears were slightly ringing because she realized that she made it - not only to a diploma but she was alive - while previously thinking that she was to be dead before twenty-one.

Over the past year, after an agonizing summer and the inability to leave even though she'd turned eighteen in October, she'd realized that she knew where she was going to go and how she was going to get there. She hadn't given much thought on what she'd do when she arrived, but getting more than a mile away from her parents after eighteen years was all she truly cared for.

Ramona could hardly contain the excitement with which she wanted to grab her diploma and leave. She shook the principal's hand far too hard when accepting it. She almost dropped the diploma itself three times. But as she stepped off the stage, she took a deep breath, one filled with blissful freedom. She knew her parents were there, watching her, and although she knew they wouldn't miss her, she had the confident feeling that they would, and they had no idea that within days, their only child would be gone from their lives forever.

Two days after graduation with only her necessities - clothes, toiletries, few personal items, and the little money she'd saved (or stolen) - in two bags and a suitcase, Ramona snuck out at two in the morning and stole her mother's beat-down car. Then she drove to Los Angeles.

Five times Ramona stopped the car at the side of the road to start crying, and that didn't include her breakdown while pumping gas at a gas station. These were odd tears, too - they were tears of joy, something she'd never experienced before. There were worries in her mind, like what she'd do when she'd get there, when she'd run out of money and how she'd get more, if her parents would report her missing or for theft, or if they'd track her down themselves for whatever reason. Yet these were nothing compared to the way she was crying because at last, the chains were broken.

There was one point, when she could see the sparkling city of Los Angeles from a distant highway, that Ramona did feel regret, but only for not telling the girls anything other than a voicemail to Addie stating, "Hey, I'm probably leaving San Diego in a few days. I want to thank all three of you for being there for me."

Granted, Ramona was planning the move and was rushed and emotional, but the girls hadn't called her afterwards and she felt as if her message wasn't adequate enough. Hell, she didn't even mention where she was going.