Glowing Ring

Chapter 1 - The Letter

Thursday 3rd August 201X

      The usual squeaky sound of the mailbox opening and closing rang throughout the almost still house. A small girl stirred from her position on the fabric sofa, the light from her phone radiating on her face. Her emerald eyes made their way towards the door, where she saw her mail piled up on the welcome mat in front of it. Ignoring the pile, she returned to her phone screen and opened up her Instagram.

      Upon opening the app, her eyes fell upon her best friends smiling features, her hazel eyes gleaming as she held the wand in her hand. Her brown hair was styled like her favourite character's in the book series 'Harry Potter', all frizzy and a complete mess. The small girl on the other side of the screen rolled her eyes, not seeing what her friend saw in the books.

      It's stupid. What's so fabulous about a book? A book is a book, no more The girl thought to herself, sighing deeply. She switched off her phone, flinging it onto the sofa she was comfortably sat upon. Her eyes flickered over to the mail pile again, and she finally decided to move. Her small figure shuffled across the wooden floor, passing the entrance to her kitchen before stopping in front of the door. She bent down, her long chestnut hair falling to cover the sides of her face, and picked up the letters. The small girl turned, continuing her small journey.

      The female reached the kitchen, and she turned on the lights. The lights lit up the partially dark room, proving effective against the rising sun. The clock on the wall read 5:34 am, and the girl didn't feel the slightest bit tired despite her early rise. Pale slender hands searched through the mail, only seeing letters for her adoptive parents, Mr Arthur Turner and Mrs Isobel Turner. She sighed, placing the mail on the kitchen counter before walking over to the sink. She overlooked her front garden, seeing the old tree where she would draw in its shade, and the only other house that wasn't sleeping. It was their opposite neighbour, the Percies.

      The Percies were nice people, but when it came to the Turners, they held a special distaste for them. They thought that it was unacceptable for them to bring an eight-year-old into their lives when they were always abroad on their business trips. Truth be told, the Turners adopted Devon - the little girl who beholds this story - for their own greater good. They could leave her behind since she would be taken care of by a different neighbour to the Percies, and they would know their house was being put to good use. The Percies held a great deal of pity for the twelve-year-old girl who would spend most of her time indoors, having been alone since the start of the summer holidays apart from the occasional drop by of her carer. Sometimes, Mrs Percie would come by with her son - who was the same age as Devon - and offer to cook her something. Devon would tell her there was no need, but she insisted, forcing her to comply and socialize with her son Charlie.

      Devon hated Charlie. He acted nice in front of his parents, but when they were left to themselves, he would become rude, making Devon feel worse about herself knowing her adoptive parents abandoned her for the whole of the summer break and had been doing so for four years. Although used to it, she couldn't help but feel that little bit worse after they had left.

      Devon's eyes took in the orange skies, smiling at the inspiring scenery. A tiny white cloud was present among the orange ones,  something Devon knew for sure wasn't supposed to happen. Gradually the white cloud got bigger and more focusable. Her emerald eyes widened as she realized that is wasn't a cloud, but an owl. And it was carrying something in its beak. Most probably a mouse was her first thought. But once again, she was proven mistaken as the owl let go of the said item, watching as the envelope floated towards her mailbox, and she heard the oh-so-familiar clatter of the lid closing. The owl flew off, leaving Devon stiff and staring at its retreating figure.