The entire gymnasium was silent. Every single person in the gym was standing at this moment, with his or her eyes fixated on the small, skinny girl, whose figure duplicated that of the microphone she was holding. Hearing her voice reminded me the birds that chirped and sang ever so delightfully to awaken me each and every morning. As I stood on the end line with my team, my eyes scanned the horizon. Seeing the bleachers filled to capacity made me realize how lucky I really was. I had tingles going through my body, like it was Christmas morning or something, as everyone anxiously awaited the game to begin. This is what high school dreams are made of.
As the crowd sat silently, the players slowly huddled around. This is the moment that the team had dreaded all season long, and it has happened only two plays into the match.
An aerial view would show the circle of players gathered around a fallen man, number nine. This would be a long match if this superstar did not return to the game, he had worked himself into becoming the heart and soul of this team, in that he was main driving force of inspiration each match. Just by watching him you could see that everyday he was giving 110% and nothing less. He was a prime example of someone who loves the game they play.
As he lay there screaming in pain and grabbing his ankle as if he had a healing touch, nobody knew what to do but stand there and watch. The entire arena was completely silent, even the opposing teams fans didn't know what to do. The kid that everyone called miller- time, who was wearing a cut volleyball on his head and had his extremely large gut...