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Creative Writing: Black Saturday

Decent Essays
Black Saturday
Beads of sweat rolled down my face as my eyes darted back and forth at the recruits slowly trickling in onto the bleachers. My hands were clammy, knife hands overlapped in the middle of my back as I stood in formation at parade rest. I frowned my eyebrows together, analyzing each recruit and singling out the ones that looked like a mess. Messy bun? No siree! Stubbly face? Where was that razor? It was Black Saturday, the first day at the LASD Sheriff Explorers Police Academy, a leadership institute where high school students learn to become better leaders and get a firsthand look into the lives of Police Officers. This rigorous program marked the first step of my journey in becoming a better leader.
The class prior, I was a terrible Drill Instructor. Not only was I incredibly shy, but just the idea of having to lead twenty recruits scared me out of my wits. Usually, I was the one getting yelled at, by my parents or by my soccer coach. Never did it occur to me that I would be in the position of kicking and screaming at students my own age. As time went on, my poor leadership skills began to show through and my fellow Drill Instructors began to catch onto my lack of
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The Drill Instructors stood stiff, barely moving to breathe. Finally, what seemed like hours later, the clock strained its long hand to ten o’clock. Showtime. A loud alarm signaled the attack and the Drill Instructors wasted no time to pounce on their prey. I charged first, stealthily pulling out my knife hand from behind and signaling orders. My knife hand cut through the air, sending recruits in every direction as they frantically searched for their right spot. My words were zipping through the air like bullet rounds. In my peripheral, I could see Sergeant Roller grinning from ear to ear, I had done it. I no longer needed my shell of protection, I was capable of standing on my
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