Where are Tina’s colours

She Woke Up to the Sound of the Phone

Eva answered , then stared at the screen for a moment. She was instantly awake when she saw the name: Sarah.

“It’s not like her to call at this hour… It’s three-thirty in the morning. Oh God, has something happened?”

—“Hello, Sarah? Are you okay?”

Sarah’s voice came through, hesitant and slightly choked:

—“I’m sorry to wake you… I couldn’t sleep. I feel a terrible heaviness.”

Eva sat up in bed, her senses fully alert now.

—“It’s okay. What happened?”

—“Do you remember when I told you that I felt there was something strange about Tina’s eyes? You said maybe she’s sensitive to light because of her light-colored eyes?”

Eva nodded slowly, though her friend couldn’t see her.

—“Yes, of course. Is… is something wrong?”

Sarah sighed softly, as if the words were too heavy to carry:

—“I took her to the hospital today. They ran several tests… It turns out she has a rare condition called Achromatopsia—complete color blindness.”

Silence hung between them for a moment. The weight of the words filled the air.

—“Oh my God… Sarah, I’m so sorry. But… that explains a lot.”

Eva could picture Sarah on the other end, trying to hold herself together, but her voice trembled as she spoke again:

—“I know it’s not life-threatening… but it feels like a part of the world has been closed off to my daughter.”

Her voice began to shake, and she couldn’t hold back her sobs.

—“How many times did I sit with her, trying to teach her colors? How many times did I get frustrated when she couldn’t tell them apart? I thought she was slow to understand, Eva! And… I dreamed she’d become an artist like me. How can I teach her to paint if she can’t see colors?”

Eva stayed silent, swallowing her own emotions so as not to interrupt the flow of her friend’s grief. In her mind, she drifted back to their middle school days—when her family moved into the house across from Sarah’s. How quickly they became friends, how Sarah shared her drawings with Eva and painted murals on her bedroom wall.

Eva knew one thing for sure: for Sarah, colors were never just something to see. They were a way to understand life.

When she returned her focus to the phone call, she heard Sarah whisper:

—“Everyone says her eyes are beautiful… but she’ll never see them, Eva. She’ll never know her favorite color.”

Eva closed her eyes, fighting back her tears. But when she spoke, her voice was steady and reassuring:

—“Sarah, listen to me. Tina has never known a world with color. This is her normal. She won’t feel like she’s missing something… unless she feels that you believe she’s incomplete.”

She paused, then added softly:

—“Don’t let this fear steal from her what she does have. There’s so much she can see… and hear… and feel.”

A few quiet moments passed before Sarah took a slow breath, trying to regain control.

—“You’re right… I need to be strong. I’ve been sitting in front of my computer all night, reading research as if I were searching for a miracle.”

Eva laughed gently, trying to lighten the mood:

—“And if there’s a miracle… Tina herself is the miracle.”

—“Will you come by tomorrow?”

—“Of course. I’ll stop by after work.”

Sarah whispered:

—“Thank you… and thank you for always being there.”

—“No need to thank me. Get some sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

When Eva hung up the phone, her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Maybe she can’t see colors… but she’s the one who brings color to life.”

The next evening, Eva visited Sarah.

When the door opened, Sarah’s face looked tired, but she forced a faint smile.

—“How was your day? You left work early today.”

Eva studied her friend’s anxious expression.

—“It was fine… How are you?”

Before Sarah could answer, Tina came running to the door and threw herself into Eva’s arms with childlike enthusiasm:

—“Auntie Eva! I missed you so much!”

Eva laughed as she hugged her tightly:

—“I missed you too, sweetie! Have you been a good girl?”

Tina nodded eagerly, grabbing Eva’s hand to pull her inside.

—“Come, I want to show you my new toy! Uncle Mark gave it to me… Look!”

Eva knelt down to examine the toy in her hand:

—“Wow! It’s so cool. What does it do?”

Tina excitedly pressed a few buttons:

—“When I press here, it plays music! Isn’t that amazing?”

She paused suddenly, then picked up a small doll and began to mimic the doctor:

—“Auntie Eva, yesterday the doctor checked my eyes like this… He said my eyes are fine, but I’ll wear sunglasses so the sunlight won’t hurt. Mama told me so.”

Eva exchanged a glance with Sarah, who stood quietly in the kitchen doorway, trying to maintain a fragile smile.

Sarah chuckled softly while placing a tray of tea on the coffee table:

—“Oh, you’re such a lively child… you make everything sound fun.”

But inside, the fear still lingered—how would she explain to Tina that the world would never look the same to her as it did to others?

Years Later…

Time flew by, and now Tina was seventeen. Though she never saw the world in color, she filled the lives around her with brightness.

Her grandfather had taught her to play the piano when she was young, and over the years, she became a talented pianist. Music became her world—a place where she could express what her eyes could not see.

Tonight was her graduation recital. As she stood backstage, she reflected on how much more beautiful life had become since she started playing music.

She had chosen to perform “True Colors” by Cyndi Lauper—a song that meant everything to her. To Tina, colors were not something you simply saw—they were feelings to be experienced, and this song reflected her truth: her “true colors” were never in her eyes… they were in the music flowing from her fingers.

When her name was called, she took a deep breath and walked confidently onto the stage. Her eyes found her mother in the front row. Sarah smiled at her with pride—a smile that held years of love and worry but, today, was filled with certainty.

As Tina’s fingers touched the piano keys, the melody poured out gently. With each note, she told her story—the story of a girl who never needed colors to see the beauty in the world.

When she finished, the hall fell silent for a heartbeat before erupting into applause.

Later that night, at her graduation party, Eva stood up, clapping her hands excitedly.

—“Okay, I have a special surprise for you. Are you ready?”

Tina raised her eyebrows curiously:

—“What is it?”

Eva grinned:

—“We’ve arranged an appointment with a specialist. There’s now a treatment that might allow you to see colors for the first time. What do you say?”

Tina’s heart raced. She turned to her mother.

—“Mom… is this what you want?”

Tears glistened in Sarah’s eyes as she whispered:

—“All I want is for you to be happy.”

In that moment, for the first time, hope blossomed in Tina’s heart—a hope that maybe, just maybe, she would finally see all the colors of life.