The Black Cloak
-My first fanfiction story! - I haven't written for a long time, trying to get started again by doing this. I hope to improve my writing and have people enjoying it (fingers crossed) at the same time! Please review it would help me a lot. Thank you! :)
Sally pulled the deep black cloak further up over her head and now messy jet black hair, her hand trembling as it made the journey, as she remembered the seriousness of the situation that she was about to thrust herself into, head first, all else last, and, Sally thought to herself – her common sense dragging slowly behind.
So overwhelmed was Sally, that she closed her eyes and just stretched out that same hand to let it feel the twisted wood of the doorknob that would lead her into… she didn't know.
She slowly turned the doorknob, quivering as she did so. The friction of the wood sent out a screech which to Sally seemed to bounce of the trees in its hideous volume, shattering the silent aura coating the forest floor. She flinched, paused, and then continued to turn the handle. The door swung open.
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"Stop fiddling with that ring! Honestly Simon." He looked up and grinned guiltily at his mother, whose frown soon melted to butter and her mouth into a helpless giggle.
"Pass the mashed potato would you please Simon? I agree with Mother, you are being very," Lily flicked her blonde curls for emphasis, "very immature!"
"Here you are Lily.", and he raised the spoon from its original position in the bowl of lumpy potato, and flicked its contents at his little sister.
"Simon!"
"You asked for it Lils!"
"You knew what I meant Simon!" Lily crossly slumped back in her chair, and began to remove small pieces of slimy mushed-up potato.
"Sorr-y Lil-y… but this ring is really special! Look – can you see the little person on it?" He looked up at his mother for some support, only to see her still in fits of laughter. He smiled, and looked back down at the ring that was in his hand.
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"How on earth is that going to catch alight if you keep blowing it out?" Jerry demanded. Robert shrugged, not put off by Jerry's normal high-and-mighty attitude, which would 'get him into trouble some day' if Farmer John's tiresome preachings and inaccurate prophecies were correct. Instead, Robert continued to blow wildly on the hot glowing ashes that lay, some on the floor of the fireplace, but most whizzing around in a stormy dust that flew out onto the wooden floor as a feather might well do. He watched as they flew free round and round and round…
"ROBERT!" – he felt a blow to his head, and looked up to find his mother's furious face staring down at his own, and Jerry's grinning gleefully in the background.
"Robert – are you even listening to me? Respond!" A second blow to the head and he could feel his eyes welling up, and a hand grab his chin so that he again faced the piercing eyes of his mother, which seemed to be fixed intently on Robert's.
"Respond!" Robert nodded rapidly, and felt her grasp loosen, allowing him to brush his sleeve across his face to wipe away any tears. It was then that the door opened…