John gazed out the window, wishing the conflict had never begun. He wished he could just be a small boy on a hot summer afternoon, relaxing. But that was no longer the case since the war had begun, and he was unable to unwind. He was stranded here of all locations, when he would have preferred to be holding his breath under the sea.
John gradually established a schedule, such as getting up at 7:00 a.m. and attending school on time, and his teacher eventually discovered that he couldn’t write. So he sat in the corner sketching or reading his book, doing very little but maintaining a healthy habit. Although his teacher was aware of his inability to write, he was patient with him because the other students made him feel stupid, but Mr. Stanley assured him, “Don’t worry, you WILL get there one day, I know it!”
Every day when he returned home, he observed Mrs Peters coming in with a pile of little bones, till one day he asked her what they were. “They were nothing,” she said in anxiety. But John was certain they were something and that she was concealing information. A little John on the inside is suspicious. An elderly Mrs Peters waits outside for her secret.
Mrs Peters calls John from outside after a few monotonous hours and says, “OK, I think it’s time you should know,” but he isn’t sure what he thinks. Then a big bird appeared out of the bushes and settled on her arm. “Meet Achilles, he’s a peregrine falcon, the world’s fastest bird,” she explained. She exclaimed, “I found him when he was a chick, he must have fallen out of his nest, but now he’s all powerful.” Its beautiful brown coat and cheeky grin astounded John.
chapter 2
John was astonished by the bird’s grin; he remained there stunned, as though he were in a trance. He couldn’t manage the shock, and it affected his posture. He stood motionless. He and Achilles were face to face, but he quickly rushed to his room and peered out the window. Achilles’ wingspan was as big as a child gliding through the air,
His sharp feathers like a razor slicing the sky and his dive faster than sound itself tearing the air. His beak is as sharp as a knife and can penetrate through flesh and meat. His hazel eyes are as brown as the autumn leaves, and his feathers are grey and white like an old television.
After a few weeks, they were interacting as they normally would: racing, eating together, playing together, etc. They bonded well, and John appreciated his new life in the country and his new identity.
After being fed and sitting on his stand to listen, Achilles dashed in the air and Mrs Peters exclaimed, “I think he likes you. He screeched and shrieked while whizzing around, but not loudly enough for the neighbours to hear him; he was quite subtle, constantly darting here and there and whizzing and wazzing. Both John, his new friend, and he shared a special bond. After a while, he retreated back into the bushes to remain hidden. As John went to sleep, he pondered the strange bird and was astounded by his quickness. Achilles would be able to read the tiny text if he hung the newspaper from a tree far away, he was confident. It astounded him.
He will be watching. “I found him in the bitter cold during the winter,” Mrs. Peters remarked. “He had to have slipped from the nest. But now, he’s incredibly strong and powerful. Nobody can predict what penalties we will face for keeping him—he’ll surely end up in a cage or even die!”
Latest Comments