Jules
Chapter 8: A Night Away from Home
Jules now sleeps without light… but is it the same anywhere other than at home? Tonight, he will have to face a new challenge: sleeping far from his familiar surroundings.
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Jules is invited to sleep over at his cousin Leo's house. He's happy, but a little worried. He's never slept there without a nightlight.
In the afternoon, they play together a lot. Everything is fine.
But in the evening, when it's time for bed, Jules feels strange. This room is different. There are shadows he doesn't recognize. He hears new noises. The floorboards creak. The wind blows near the window.
Jules clutches his blanket. He remembers what he learned.
The darkness isn't dangerous. The noises are normal. He listens carefully. The creaking is the wood of the house. The whisper is the wind. He thinks of the stars he drew with his grandfather. He imagines the constellations above him. His heart calms. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.
In the morning, Jules wakes up. Leo asks him if he slept well.
— Yes. I thought of the stars.
Leo smiled.
— For me, sometimes it feels strange to sleep somewhere else.
Jules understands that he is not alone. On his way home, he writes in his notebook: "Sleeping somewhere else is different, but not scary."
In the afternoon, they play together a lot. Everything is fine.
But in the evening, when it's time for bed, Jules feels strange. This room is different. There are shadows he doesn't recognize. He hears new noises. The floorboards creak. The wind blows near the window.
Jules clutches his blanket. He remembers what he learned.
The darkness isn't dangerous. The noises are normal. He listens carefully. The creaking is the wood of the house. The whisper is the wind. He thinks of the stars he drew with his grandfather. He imagines the constellations above him. His heart calms. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.
In the morning, Jules wakes up. Leo asks him if he slept well.
— Yes. I thought of the stars.
Leo smiled.
— For me, sometimes it feels strange to sleep somewhere else.
Jules understands that he is not alone. On his way home, he writes in his notebook: "Sleeping somewhere else is different, but not scary."
Jules is proud of himself. He managed to sleep without light, without reassuring noises, without a machine. He now knows that darkness isn't dangerous. Yet, a new question crosses his mind. At home, he feels safe, but what if he had to sleep somewhere else, in a house he doesn't know?
This weekend, he's invited to sleep over at his cousin Leo's house. He loves going there; they always have so much fun. Yet, as he's packing his bag, a strange feeling comes over him. He's never slept there without a nightlight or some other small light. At Leo's, there won't be his magic lamp or his dream machine. He takes a deep breath and tells himself he's faced tougher challenges.
When he arrives, everything seems normal. They play all afternoon, invent games, and eat a good dinner.
Jules feels fine. But when it's time for bed, he realizes this room is unfamiliar. There's a window overlooking the garden, furniture that casts different shadows, and above all, sounds he doesn't recognize. The floorboards creak in a different way, and there's a faint whistling near the window. He turns over in bed and listens intently.
He clutches his blanket and tries to remember everything he has learned.
He's no longer a child afraid of the dark; he understands that the night is full of tiny hidden lights, that the noises are often normal. He concentrates and tries to analyze them one by one. That creaking sound is the wood of the house. That whisper is just the wind. Little by little, he feels his heart slow down.
He thinks back to the starry sky he drew with his grandfather and imagines the constellations above him. Orion watches over him, as does the Big Dipper. He feels calmer. Noises no longer frighten him, shadows are no longer unsettling. He closes his eyes and lets himself be lulled by the silence of the night.
In the morning, he opens his eyes, surprised to have slept without any problems. He feels light, relieved. During breakfast, Leo asks him if he slept well. Jules hesitates for a moment, then smiles.
— Yes. At first, I was a little worried… but then I thought about the stars and I slept very well.
Leo nods.
— Me too, sometimes I find it strange to sleep somewhere else.
Jules then realizes he's not the only one feeling this way. He hasn't just succeeded in his challenge; he's also understood that it's normal to feel a little apprehensive in a new place. This thought makes him even more at ease.
Upon returning home, he opens his notebook and writes:
“Sleeping elsewhere is different, but not scary.”
The noises change, but that doesn't mean they are dangerous.
What reassures me at home, I can find it in my mind, everywhere.
Last night, he discovered a new freedom: he is no longer afraid of the dark, even far from home.
This weekend, he's invited to sleep over at his cousin Leo's house. He loves going there; they always have so much fun. Yet, as he's packing his bag, a strange feeling comes over him. He's never slept there without a nightlight or some other small light. At Leo's, there won't be his magic lamp or his dream machine. He takes a deep breath and tells himself he's faced tougher challenges.
When he arrives, everything seems normal. They play all afternoon, invent games, and eat a good dinner.
Jules feels fine. But when it's time for bed, he realizes this room is unfamiliar. There's a window overlooking the garden, furniture that casts different shadows, and above all, sounds he doesn't recognize. The floorboards creak in a different way, and there's a faint whistling near the window. He turns over in bed and listens intently.
He clutches his blanket and tries to remember everything he has learned.
He's no longer a child afraid of the dark; he understands that the night is full of tiny hidden lights, that the noises are often normal. He concentrates and tries to analyze them one by one. That creaking sound is the wood of the house. That whisper is just the wind. Little by little, he feels his heart slow down.
He thinks back to the starry sky he drew with his grandfather and imagines the constellations above him. Orion watches over him, as does the Big Dipper. He feels calmer. Noises no longer frighten him, shadows are no longer unsettling. He closes his eyes and lets himself be lulled by the silence of the night.
In the morning, he opens his eyes, surprised to have slept without any problems. He feels light, relieved. During breakfast, Leo asks him if he slept well. Jules hesitates for a moment, then smiles.
— Yes. At first, I was a little worried… but then I thought about the stars and I slept very well.
Leo nods.
— Me too, sometimes I find it strange to sleep somewhere else.
Jules then realizes he's not the only one feeling this way. He hasn't just succeeded in his challenge; he's also understood that it's normal to feel a little apprehensive in a new place. This thought makes him even more at ease.
Upon returning home, he opens his notebook and writes:
“Sleeping elsewhere is different, but not scary.”
The noises change, but that doesn't mean they are dangerous.
What reassures me at home, I can find it in my mind, everywhere.
Last night, he discovered a new freedom: he is no longer afraid of the dark, even far from home.
Jules is proud of himself. He managed to sleep without light, without reassuring noises, without a machine. He now knows that darkness isn't dangerous. He's weathered some difficult nights, learned to tame his fears, and discovered that darkness can be gentle and peaceful. Yet, a new question arises in his mind. At home, in his room, he feels safe. But what if he had to sleep somewhere else, in a house he doesn't know, in a bed that isn't his? Will everything he's learned still work?
This weekend, he's invited to sleep over at his cousin Leo's house. He loves going there. He and Leo are very close; they always have so much fun together. They invent stories, build forts, and play in the garden until nightfall. Yet, as he packs his bag, a strange feeling comes over him. A knot forms in his stomach. He's never slept there without a nightlight or some other light. At Leo's, there won't be his magic lamp, his dream machine, or even his usual comforts. He takes a deep breath and tells himself that he's already faced harder challenges. He's learned to trust the night. Why would it be any different anywhere else?
When he arrives at Leo's house, everything seems normal. They play all afternoon, invent games, run around the garden and eat a good dinner prepared by Jules' aunt.
Jules feels good. He laughs, he has fun, he almost forgets his worry. But when it's time for bed, when Leo turns off the bedroom light and wishes him goodnight, he realizes that this room is unfamiliar to him.
There's a window overlooking the garden, furniture that casts shadows different from those in his room, and above all, sounds he doesn't recognize. The floorboards creak differently, not like the ones at home. There's a faint whistling near the window, perhaps the wind passing through the shutters. A muffled sound resonates somewhere in the house, as if someone were walking upstairs. He turns in bed, pulls the covers up to his chin, and listens intently.
He clutches his blanket and tries to remember everything he has learned.
He's no longer a child afraid of the dark; he understands that the night is full of tiny hidden lights, that the noises are often normal, and that there's nothing to fear. He concentrates and tries to analyze them one by one, just as he did at home. That creaking sound is the wood of the house expanding and contracting in the cool night air. That whisper is just the wind slipping in through the window. That muffled sound might be Jules's aunt tidying the kitchen. Little by little, he feels his heart rate slow down. His breathing becomes more regular.
He thinks back to the starry sky he drew with his grandfather and imagines the constellations above him, even though he can't see them through the ceiling. Orion watches over him, as does the Big Dipper. He imagines the stars shining in the sky, the same stars he sees from his window at home. He's not so far from home after all. The sky is the same everywhere.
He feels calmer. The noises no longer frighten him. They even become reassuring, because they show that the house is alive, that it breathes, that it is inhabited. The shadows are no longer unsettling. They are just different shapes, but they don't hide anything dangerous. He closes his eyes and lets himself be lulled by the silence of the night. He thinks of his grandfather, of everything he taught him, and he feels safe, even far from home.
In the morning, he opens his eyes, surprised to have slept soundly. Daylight filters gently through the window.He hears the birds singing outside. He feels light, relieved, and even a little proud. During breakfast, Leo asks him if he slept well. Jules hesitates for a moment. He could simply say "yes" and move on. But he decides to be honest.
— Yes. At first, I was a little worried… but then I thought about the stars and I slept very well.
Leo nods his head and looks at him with a small smile.
— Me too, sometimes I find it strange to sleep somewhere else. At my grandmother's, for example, I always have trouble falling asleep the first night.
Jules then realizes he's not the only one who feels this way. Even Leo, who seems so self-assured, sometimes experiences this strange feeling in a new place. He hasn't just succeeded in his challenge; he's also understood that it's normal to feel a little apprehensive in an unfamiliar environment. It doesn't mean you're weak or that you're afraid for no reason. It just means you're adapting. This thought makes him feel even more at ease.
Upon returning home, Jules opens his notebook and carefully writes:
“Sleeping elsewhere is different, but not scary.”
The noises change, but that doesn't mean they are dangerous.
What reassures me at home, I can find it in my head, everywhere.
Even far from home, the stars are the same.
He closes his notebook and smiles. Tonight, he has discovered a new freedom: he is no longer afraid of the dark, even far from home. He can sleep anywhere, as long as he keeps what he has learned within him. The night is no longer his enemy. It has become his friend, wherever he is.
This weekend, he's invited to sleep over at his cousin Leo's house. He loves going there. He and Leo are very close; they always have so much fun together. They invent stories, build forts, and play in the garden until nightfall. Yet, as he packs his bag, a strange feeling comes over him. A knot forms in his stomach. He's never slept there without a nightlight or some other light. At Leo's, there won't be his magic lamp, his dream machine, or even his usual comforts. He takes a deep breath and tells himself that he's already faced harder challenges. He's learned to trust the night. Why would it be any different anywhere else?
When he arrives at Leo's house, everything seems normal. They play all afternoon, invent games, run around the garden and eat a good dinner prepared by Jules' aunt.
Jules feels good. He laughs, he has fun, he almost forgets his worry. But when it's time for bed, when Leo turns off the bedroom light and wishes him goodnight, he realizes that this room is unfamiliar to him.
There's a window overlooking the garden, furniture that casts shadows different from those in his room, and above all, sounds he doesn't recognize. The floorboards creak differently, not like the ones at home. There's a faint whistling near the window, perhaps the wind passing through the shutters. A muffled sound resonates somewhere in the house, as if someone were walking upstairs. He turns in bed, pulls the covers up to his chin, and listens intently.
He clutches his blanket and tries to remember everything he has learned.
He's no longer a child afraid of the dark; he understands that the night is full of tiny hidden lights, that the noises are often normal, and that there's nothing to fear. He concentrates and tries to analyze them one by one, just as he did at home. That creaking sound is the wood of the house expanding and contracting in the cool night air. That whisper is just the wind slipping in through the window. That muffled sound might be Jules's aunt tidying the kitchen. Little by little, he feels his heart rate slow down. His breathing becomes more regular.
He thinks back to the starry sky he drew with his grandfather and imagines the constellations above him, even though he can't see them through the ceiling. Orion watches over him, as does the Big Dipper. He imagines the stars shining in the sky, the same stars he sees from his window at home. He's not so far from home after all. The sky is the same everywhere.
He feels calmer. The noises no longer frighten him. They even become reassuring, because they show that the house is alive, that it breathes, that it is inhabited. The shadows are no longer unsettling. They are just different shapes, but they don't hide anything dangerous. He closes his eyes and lets himself be lulled by the silence of the night. He thinks of his grandfather, of everything he taught him, and he feels safe, even far from home.
In the morning, he opens his eyes, surprised to have slept soundly. Daylight filters gently through the window.He hears the birds singing outside. He feels light, relieved, and even a little proud. During breakfast, Leo asks him if he slept well. Jules hesitates for a moment. He could simply say "yes" and move on. But he decides to be honest.
— Yes. At first, I was a little worried… but then I thought about the stars and I slept very well.
Leo nods his head and looks at him with a small smile.
— Me too, sometimes I find it strange to sleep somewhere else. At my grandmother's, for example, I always have trouble falling asleep the first night.
Jules then realizes he's not the only one who feels this way. Even Leo, who seems so self-assured, sometimes experiences this strange feeling in a new place. He hasn't just succeeded in his challenge; he's also understood that it's normal to feel a little apprehensive in an unfamiliar environment. It doesn't mean you're weak or that you're afraid for no reason. It just means you're adapting. This thought makes him feel even more at ease.
Upon returning home, Jules opens his notebook and carefully writes:
“Sleeping elsewhere is different, but not scary.”
The noises change, but that doesn't mean they are dangerous.
What reassures me at home, I can find it in my head, everywhere.
Even far from home, the stars are the same.
He closes his notebook and smiles. Tonight, he has discovered a new freedom: he is no longer afraid of the dark, even far from home. He can sleep anywhere, as long as he keeps what he has learned within him. The night is no longer his enemy. It has become his friend, wherever he is.