High school. New environment, new people test. I chose an agricultural high school that had a good reputation because it chose only on file. The second new class. There were only two classes of seconds in this school. I was not in that of Solenne. Pushed to my last hurdles, I simply put myself at the back of the classroom and waited. As a principal teacher, a rather small woman with red hair and drawn features, she taught English as we used to say, but her accent was so terrible that I still have doubts. It was in the class of this woman of dubious language that I met a friend who is dear to me today. Romain. A big guy has a wonky and unhealthy sense of humor. A teddy bear with a big heart and a rather disturbing tic to wink at everything goes. It was the first day he had already made himself noticed by his rather hilarious Franglais.
" Where do you live ?
- In a little village very paumé "
Ça nous avait tous plus ou moins fais rire. On peut dire qu'il savait attirer l'attention. Cependant en tant que typique rebelle du fond de la classe, je n'avais aucune idée de qui était en train de parler. Je ne distinguais que des masse de cheveux, plus ou moins, informe. C'est quand on est arrivé en cours de physique que, une place libre se trouvant a coté de moi, il vint s'installer à mes côtés, pour ne plus jamais en partir. On a sympathiser grâce a des blagues salasses et un travail de groupe forcé. C'est intriguant comme l'univers reproduit les mêmes schémas, mais avec des personnes différentes. Les jours se suivaient, mais ne se ressemblaient pas, avec Romain, on n'avait jamais le temps de s'ennuyer.
Wandering in vain in the corridors and the various rooms free of access that I had spotted a boy who seemed to me to stand out. Slender with the skin on the bones, his long hair tied in chinions thanks to wooden chopsticks, a leather jacket motorcycle on the back. He was one of them. In agricultural high school, an hour of permanence is obligatory, it is during one of mine that I saw this boy arrive with a smile on the proud lips of his find, an empty bottle of beer in his hand. On the label no logo, but the face of Stalin looking away. He was extolling his finding to a group of men who seemed to be his friends. At first glance, he must have been older than me.
Solenne had first made contact with him. She was hanging out with him more and more and with me. I didn't think of him as my friend, I thought of him as my friend's friend. One day, as I came out of the library with a sling around my neck, he called out to me.
"Hey, that's a cool wrap!"
He took it out of my neck and put it into his. He put his in my place. I remained nailed to the spot not knowing how to react. It was Steven, we had to look no further. One day in our group of friends, we learned that Steven was in love with Solenne. I was hanging out with him more and more, and less and less with Solenne. It's as if she was too busy with her new friends. And Steven caught up in some kind of wave of compassion or pity was staying with me. Go find out why. When my two best friends went out, I had every reason to be happy for them, but I don't know why in my heart I was disappointed. Without any reason, my joy was spoiled by a sort of black veil, I wished only their happiness.
The year was not over, but it promised to be strong in emotions. After several episodes of life more bland each other. These are the most beautiful moments of my life that I am embarking on. That is what they say.
Christmas, ideal occasion for family reunion, moment of joy, moment of sharing. Bundled up in our large sweaters, we pose in front of the grandmother's large stone fireplace. There are missing recent pictures of this wonderful family painting that she erected on her wall, in the entrance. Some will never be updated again. December, it smells like cinnamon and orange with a powder background. A clove in a tangerine on a heater and you think you're at the North Pole. 12, the month of the good resolutions, the month in which we find excuses to eat like pigs with impunity.
When your family lives in Brittany, the holiday meals are all similar. Seafood platter is mandatory. Even my mother, who doesn't eat animals, had to bend to it. We sit down at 7 o'clock sharp, the happy hour obliges. Then it goes on until 8 o'clock. If the children are too unbearable, it's time to open the presents. A little respite. The meal ends at 11 pm, with a dessert as plentiful as the rest.
And that's when the annoying subject came up in front of me for the first time. My aunt Parisa had had an ulcer for about a month. The treatments weren't effective, she had an appointment to see what was wrong. After the holidays, we went home, to say goodbye to the dullest, most mundane. A few months later, my mother, who used to care for old people, started researching pancreatic cancer. It was the crying in her voice when she was talking to my grandmother, when she thought I couldn't hear, that caught my eye. My aunt had pancreatic cancer. The news hit me hard.Finally, the news never officially announced. But everyone, as compassionate as they could be, gave me a piece of hope. It's going to go ", " science is making a lot of progress at this level", "it's going to be okay". Pancreatic cancer is one of the most aggressive cancers.
1 and a half years. An inoperable tumor, she followed the classical program, chemotherapy and rays. She starts losing her hair, chemo kills you more than cancer. I wanted to shave my hair to show her that even without hair, you could be a woman. But my mother forbade me and I cut them off as short as I could. I kept them that way for 3 years. Cursed day was April 9. April 9. Three days after the funeral took place. To my mother, classes were more important than family. I could not say goodbye to him. The day of his death, I wrote a poem for his funeral, I would have liked to read to him. It was done in my place.
In an unfinished and windblown farewell, I conclude this chapter.