the eagles of the sand

a volleyball eagles

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One day, when I was practicing volleyball with my team in the school gym, a man stepped into the room. He was tall and young, and his eyes looked tainted with some sort of fierceness, as if he would turn into a dragon and roar fire if we so much as poked him. He looked strong, and even though he hadn’t said a word or blinked his eyes at us yet, we knew he had some sort of authority over us.

 

Lowen was standing next to me and holding a ball in his hand, his breathing slightly heavy from exercise. We glanced at each other nervously. We didn’t know what to think of the mystery man.

 

My other three friends Samantha, Max, and Lilly were watching me from the gym bleachers. I glanced at them, and they betrayed the same nervous expression.

 

    The young man pulled a shiny silver whistle out of his pocket and blew it.

    

    Every boy in the gym suddenly froze right then, twisting their heads towards the direction of the loud sound they had heard, as if they weren’t already aware that somebody had been watching them, as if they wanted to deny the goosebumps they had just felt.

 

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