Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1

1 - Joséphine

The long-awaited moment has finally arrived, with an hour and a half's drive stretching out before me. Anticipation mixed with excitement and nervousness had tinged my days since the e-mail from Seattle University landed in my inbox. That moment remains etched in my memory for all eternity. I remember sitting up in bed, my laptop resting on my lap. The brightness of the screen seemed almost magical in the half-light of the room. The notification had suddenly appeared, and at that precise moment, my heart had leapt into my chest, as if time had suspended its flight.

An uncontrolled cry of joy had burst from my lips, echoing through every corner of the house. It was beyond belief. My academic performance hadn't been the most dazzling, my report card hadn't been a model of perfection, and yet, I'd been accepted. My uncle hugged me, his own emotion almost palpable. I could hardly catch my breath as he hugged me so tightly.

After celebrating with a mixture of indescribable emotions, I grabbed my phone to share the news with my best friend, Joey. Our friendship had blossomed at the dawn of our teenage years, as we took our first steps in college. The beginnings had been anything but harmonious, our personalities colliding in an initial shock. Fate, however, took on a touch of irony when our sports teacher, with a shrewdness that defies rational explanation, decided to team us up. This meeting, propelled by a simple task – unearthing treasure using a faded old map and a temperamental compass – had proved to be the turning point in our relationship.

The news of my admission to college had made Joey's eyes sparkle, despite the subtle shadow of sadness on the horizon. Our paths, once paved with laughter and incessant hallway conversations, would now branch off into different horizons. Joey is destined for the University of San Francisco, and although our eyes may no longer physically meet as often, we've made a silent pact to maintain our friendship.

The inescapable prospect of leaving both my uncle, a pillar of my life since the tragic car accident that took my parents' lives, and Joey, my inseparable friend, makes me nervous.

With meticulous attention, I carefully gather my belongings near the front door, arranging each object with almost meditative precision. Across the room, Sam sits quietly on the sofa, his kind eyes riveted on me, a subtle mix of pride and tenderness in his gaze.

"It's hard to believe this day has come, isn't it?" Sam asks me in a soft voice.

I nod, my throat tight with emotion, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm proud of you for taking the plunge," he says, smiling warmly.

I offer him a smile in return, the corners of my lips rising slowly. Sam has always found the right words, and sometimes I think he would have been a perfect psychologist.

My fingers slip into my bag to check that the key to my apartment is in place. It's an apartment that Sam, my uncle, found for me, just a five-minute walk from the university. In fact, we both discovered it as soon as I received the news of my admission. It all happened in the space of a week. Boxes started the ball rolling, followed by kitchen and bathroom supplies. Decorating sessions followed textbooks. Sam had freed up his mechanic's schedule for this special period.

I stop for a moment to contemplate the house one last time. I'm going to miss the soft pale yellow façade and the white curtains that danced in the windows. The open-plan kitchen where we'd shared so many meals, and the home cinema where we'd shared laughs and moments of relaxation, all pinch my heart. But I made a promise to Sam to come back every break, and my promises always carried weight with him.

As my car's engine roars to life, I shake my hand lightly at Sam, standing in the doorway, to say goodbye. His benevolent smile is like a refuge that soothes the sadness creeping up on me. It's amazing how a simple gesture can erase torment.

On the way, I try to relax my tense shoulders. Living alone for the first time is not without anxiety. It's not having to cook or keep things clean that worries me – I was already used to dealing with these things at Sam's place, since he spent most of his time in the garage. It's more the prospect of walking into a silent apartment at the end of the day, of not seeing a familiar face, that grips my heart. The movie nights with Sam, the laughter, the popcorn, the giant shared bottle of soda-all this is about to change. My habits are about to be turned upside down, and it's both exciting and frightening.

I slide the glass out of my window, letting the gentle warmth of twenty-seven degrees soak into the cabin. Unfortunately, even my tank top isn't enough to alleviate the sensation of oppressive heat. The record Joey had given me for my birthday this summer finally finds its way into the player. I touch the steering wheel with my fingertips, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart, but the stress persists. The landscape unfolding before me confirms that I'm finally in Seattle. The majestic mountains frame the city in their splendor. It's eight o'clock when I enter its familiar streets. Seattle is no stranger to me; my uncle used to take me there when I was a child for our trips to the skating rink. Nostalgia mixed with excitement makes me smile.

My gaze settles on my residence with its sky-blue front. It's a place I recognize easily. Not only is it not far from the university, but it's right next door to a Starbucks. What a convenient coincidence. The building is reserved for Seattle University students, which gives me a shy hope of meeting new people. I take the path down to the underground parking lot, next to a bustling basketball court. The neighborhood seems to be in perpetual motion. My apartment is on the top floor, a prospect that makes me instantly regret the stair climb ahead.

Finally, I enter my apartment, my cheeks still slightly rosy from the heat. The space is exactly what I'd imagined. Spacious and welcoming, it exudes familiarity. My uncle took care to personalize it in my image. He knows my tastes inside out. My favorite floral sheets adorn the bed, a touch that makes me smile. Sam has always had a knack for knowing how I would design my own space. He was keen to manage every detail to make me feel at home here.

The sofa sits against the wall of the living room, facing the television, already carefully set up. My bed is judiciously placed behind the sofa, near the balcony, which offers a captivating view. A collection of frames hangs on the wall, a pictorial tribute to my parents and to Sam, my uncle. The eyes of my family watch over me through these beloved photos. Among these personal touches, Sam has ingeniously added shelves to hold the various decorations I've carefully packed in my boxes.

Carefully, I place the boxes on the living room's immaculate white carpet. Taking off my sneakers, I stow them in the shoe cabinet by the door. The installation process begins. My lamp emits a soft glow on my little pale pink bedside table, my books find their place on the shelf, and my laptop flourishes on the desk. Once everything is arranged harmoniously, I literally collapse onto the sofa, overwhelmed by a well-deserved feeling of tiredness. I flick through the TV channels, grimacing at best, until I come across a series that looks decent. Grabbing my phone, I scroll down the list of restaurants that offer evening delivery. My fridge is still empty and hunger gnaws at my stomach.

*

The soft murmur of dialogue from the series I've chosen accompanies me as I savor my sushi, trying to appease my appetite while distracting my mind from the tumult of thoughts related to tomorrow. After savoring my last bite, I carefully clear away my tray, storing the leftovers in the refrigerator. Finally, I retire to bed, setting my alarm for the morning. As the minutes tick by, a gentle fatigue washes over me. My mind, which usually wanders off into the maze of future concerns, is gradually calmed by the steady rhythm of my breathing. My eyelids close slowly, gradually erasing the last vestiges of worries about tomorrow.