Azkaban
Just a very, very short fic, so I can pay my respects to Padfoot. (I don't own all this by the way.)
You have probably heard of Azkaban, and the tales that surround it, but I doubt you will ever truly understand how awful it is until you actually go.
It is painful to reflect upon it, even now I am away from there. It is truly terrible- you could not sleep- for even when you are asleep, you dream- and the Dementors inspire the worst of nightmares. But then, I suppose, it is little worse than being awake- for the Dementors make you relive the worst moments of your life- over and over. Again and again.
Not only are you imprisoned by water, walls and enchantments, but also within your head. More often than not, prisoners there become delusional, maddened by the things that surround them- the grief, the depression, the thoughts. For I think that is the worst thing- the feeling of tragedies and grievances tugging at your brain, willing you to remember them, in frightening detail.
There is not much you can do after the insanity kicks in- you come to a point where you long to die, for that is the only escape.
I felt like writing something for Sirius, and there it was. I'm not expecting many reviews, but they're very welcome!