Early in the morning, around 7:35 AM, Sam laced up his worn-out sneakers, his hands trembling as he tied the knot, preparing for match day. He walked out with his father, John Wells—a man who had lost his sight but not his dreams. With hearts pounding yet smiles on their faces, they made their way to the volleyball court. The venue was none other than St. Titan's Academy, Sam's school.
For two years, Sam had been on the school team. He was one of the best players—his serves were sharp, his spikes effortless, and his defense extraordinary. A player like him was rare. Yet, every time the whistle blew, he remained on the bench, watching from the sidelines. Today was no different.
Sam Wells was a shy and introverted kid. He always found it difficult to express himself. Coming from a lower-class family as the only child of his parents, he understood struggle. His parents did everything they could to provide for him, never letting their hardships affect his dreams. In return, Sam never asked for much—he had always been a quiet child, never demanding anything.
As they reached St. Titan's Academy, the school courtyard buzzed with excitement. Students in red and black jerseys—the school colors symbolizing power and aggression—moved around, chatting and warming up. Sam guided his father, John Wells, to a bench.
"Here, Dad. This is a perfect spot," he said, helping him settle onto the metal seat.
John turned toward his son's voice. "I have a strong feeling, Sam. Today is your day," he said with excitement.
Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. Deep down, he knew the truth.
As he walked toward his team, his heart felt heavy with the weight of reality. Coach Alex barely acknowledged him. Sam took his usual seat, away from the rest of the team, fidgeting with his legs.
The game started…