The following days were both more difficult and more meaningful for Lina. As the pressure at home increased, she clung tighter to her dreams. She pretended to open her textbooks, pulling out the drawings she'd hidden in her notebooks. As her pen ran over the page, her breathing eased, her heart beat faster.
But there was a problem: she still hadn't purchased the materials needed for the competition. She didn't want to participate with ordinary notebook drawings. She needed a larger canvas, more vibrant paints, to showcase her inner dream.
One day, after school, she and Elif went to the market. A small stationery store had a window display lined with large white canvases. Lina approached the window, unable to tear her eyes away from the canvas. She placed her hands on the glass as if to touch it.
"This is it," she whispered. "My sky will be on this canvas."
Elif saw the light in his eyes.
"We'll get it, Lina. We'll find a way. Maybe we'll save our allowance, maybe secretly... But it's worth it for this dream of yours."
That day, they decided together: they would put aside their weekly allowance. They wouldn't buy milk for breakfast, wouldn't eat anything from the cafeteria during breaks, and would save little by little.
For Lina, this wasn't just about saving money; it was about learning patience. Every time she felt hungry or stopped wanting something, that white canvas came to mind, and her resolve grew.
At night, she would lock herself in her room, sketching in her little notebook. Most often, she would draw a starry sky, sometimes colors hidden in the clouds, sometimes a girl's figure reaching for the sky… All of them were parts of her own story.
One night, after everyone else had fallen asleep, she opened her window. The cold air hit her face. The sky was bright, the stars twinkling like rays of hope. Lina whispered, "One day, my paintings will join this sky."
At that moment, she felt a warmth in her chest. It was as if the stars had winked at her, telling her to keep going.
By morning, her eyes were swollen, but she felt an indescribable peace. Her mother noticed this.
"Were you sleepless again?" she asked.
Lina bowed her head. "I was studying..."
Lying was hard on her, but she had no other choice. If she told the truth, her dream might end before it even began.
That day, she wrote only three words in her notebook:
"No matter what."
And those words became Lina's secret oath.