My Soul Is Swimming Across The Sea

I was born and raised in Austin, Texas, in a friendly neighborhood where everyone knew each other. That’s where I met my best friends, Sebastian and Stephanie.

Sebastian lived across the street, his bedroom window facing mine. Our parents had been close even before we were even born, so we were basically friends since day one, from the moment we were brought into the world.

Stephanie, on the other hand, moved in two houses down from mine when I was about five years old.

Seb and I grew up in each other’s houses. Our parents didn’t really give us much of a choice. He’s basically like my brother. They even changed our diapers side by side, so we are definitely past the embarrassing, shy stage.

One random afternoon, Seb and I were playing outside in the garden when the ball hit Steph in the head.

And that’s how she became our friend.

We almost killed her, but she loved us anyway. Maybe the ball got her good. Otherwise, why would she choose to hang out with two crazy kids?

I remember her mum screaming like crazy while her daughter was just laughing instead of crying. Seb ran to the house, yelling for his mum, scared out of his mind, while I ran toward the little girl to check on her.

Her mother stopped me halfway.

“Don’t come near her. You’ve done enough already,” she snapped.

“I’m fine,” a small voice said from behind her.

Seconds later, Seb and our mothers arrived.

“I’m so sorry. Is she hurt?” my mum asked, offering to help. “You must be new in the neighborhood. Would you like to come in for a coffee?”

Before she could answer, the little girl stood up and slipped her hand into mine.

“Can we, mommy? Please,” she pleaded with puppy eyes.

Finally, the woman softened. For a moment, I had been sure she might actually bite.

She smiled at her daughter, then turned to our mothers. “Christine. Nice to meet you.” She shook their hands. “We moved here from Canada a couple of days ago.”

“I’m Carla, and this is Lucy,” Seb’s mum introduced. “And this is my boy, Sebastian-”

Before she could introduce me, I cut in. “I’m Selina.”

“This is Stephanie,” her mother said, pointing at her as we started walking towards my house.

After that moment, something just clicked and we became unbreakable. Us and our mothers, too.

To this day, we talk about it and laugh at how scary her mother seemed at first and how caring and loving she really is.

We shared countless sleepovers, the three of us. Sleeping in the same room, sometimes even the same bed. Steph and I on the edges, Seb in the middle, whispering until we fell asleep and getting caught on school nights more times than we could count.

We told each other scary stories, trying to see who would get scared first.

The problem was that some of them were so convincing that we ended up believing them ourselves.

We grew up together like siblings we never had.

At school, we were always together, in the same class, in everything. No one was ever left out. It didn’t matter that Seb was a boy, or that he and I had known each other longer. We never let Steph feel the difference.

We were the perfect trio.

By the end of primary school, we made a pact to never let anything come between us. Above all, to stay friends and not let our feelings get the best of us.

“Pinky promise?” I asked.

They smiled and linked their fingers with mine.

“Nothing could change the way I feel about you girls.” Seb said, pulling us into a hug.

“Aww, you’re the best. I love you guys,” Steph said, already tearing up.

Stephanie was the sensitive one of the group. Sebastian was the leader, though sometimes a coward.

And me?

I was the strong one. The one who wasn’t afraid.

Or at least, that’s what I liked to believe.

On weekends, when we were left alone, we often found ourselves in weird situations.

One memory that stands out is when my parents went out of town for a work. I was twelve, so I invited Seb and Steph over to stay with me.

We were just hanging out, playing with superheroes, when the phone rang. Seb picked it up without thinking. Before we could stop him, he started giving out information he definitely shouldn’t have been sharing with a stranger.

“Are your parents home?” the man on the other end asked.

“It’s not my house… but there are no adults here,” Seb said.

Steph and I immediately exchanged a worried look.

“What are you doing? Hang up,” I whispered.

And just like that, Seb ended the call abruptly.

“Who was it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. He said he wanted to speak to your dad… asked if he was home.”

“And you told him we’re alone?” Steph snapped. “You don’t even know who you were talking to!”

For a moment, none of us spoke.

The house suddenly felt too quiet.

“Do you think he knows where we are?” Steph asked, her voice lower now.

We didn’t answer. We just looked at each other.

Then we moved.

We grabbed whatever we could find in the kitchen – knives, a rolling pin, even a wooden spoon. It felt ridiculous, yet it also didn’t.

We waited behind the door, barely breathing, listening to every sound outside.

Every passing car made us freeze.

Every shadow felt like someone watching.

Minutes passed.

No one ever came.

Later, we found out my dad actually knew the man. He was no threat.

But that didn’t matter. We had already felt the fear.

Thats when we learned something about the world.

And about each other.

After this adventure, we gave ourselves a name.

“The three S’s.”

Against all odds.