By Longxin Jin, Year 12
I don’t know what colours are, but I know what they usually represent. For example, green means go, yellow means slow down, or, in some cases, floor it, and red means stop. I believe that there is a colour temperature spectrum from coldest to hottest, I believe that spectrum goes blue, green, pink, purple, yellow, orange, and red, with brown, black, grey, and white being neutral. For example, the red light on an electrical appliance, I imagine as hot because red is a hot colour, and most electrical appliances, particularly those that generate heat, will have a red light. Whereas, if there’s something that has a blue light, I see that as cold.
When someone talks about a beautiful person, it’s represented in my mind by their personality because I can’t tell how they look. When I’m out in public, texture and sounds are extremely important in terms of knowing my surroundings, especially when I’m in an unfamiliar place.
When I walk on the street, I’m always afraid of the cars, the crossroads, the crowded places. My best friend is a Seeing Eye Dog. Although we can’t talk to each other, I’m still happy that he can help me in a timely manner. Since a fire made me lose my eyes, I can’t see any colours in my life. I tried to give up, I tried to commit suicide, but I was afraid, I afraid that after I chose to commit suicide, my parents would feel depressed.
I feel happy when people ask me kindly whether I need some help or not; they might be a group of angels. Sometimes, I also hear some people walking away, and laughing about me, because I can’t see colour.
I don’t know what is in my fridge since my life has no colours anymore. I don’t know what an apple looks like, I don’t know how fun computer games are. I live in a hostel for people like me, who also can’t see the colours of this world. From my point of view, life is full of black. I have illusions a thousand times that my life can be more colourful. I don’t like my life with only one colour, I believe no one likes it, but this is my life, I have to adapt to it.
I always cry when I am lying on my bed. I pull the covers over my head, trying not to be heard. Even if people heard you crying, no one would be shocked by that, it’s common in my hostel.
We are living as zombies, the God doesn’t believe we deserve the same normal life as other normal people.
Life is like a painting for me, what happens each day will become a piece of pigment for me to finish this painting. ‘Life is colourful when you know how to paint it’. From this moment I decided to pick up a paint brush, I decided I would try my best to do a splendid, colourful painting.
