There was chaos everywhere. Muggles strewn across the ground. Bloodied and injured. I stood there my heart pounding furiously. Red and blue lights flashed silently after wailing. The Ministry of Magic is here; they seem to be eradicating and replacing the memories of these Muggles. My heart is pounding. I cannot think straight. I don't know where Peter went. He disappeared. Gone. My heart is racing; pumping blood through my veins at an seemingly extraordinary rate; I can hear it in my ears. They're coming towards me the Ministry. Fuck! They have dementors with them. I cannot move I am frozen in place. My heart is running rampart even more than before.

"Quite stupid to be bring dementors amongst the Muggles," I snarled, putting on a false bravado.

"No worries. No worries. They won't remember a thing." The minister told me. "Now come along, boy. Don't resist now."

I made an attempt to run, but I felt cold filtrate my body. Ice creepy through my veins , I shivered in my place. They were all upon me; they're ominous hooded faces staring into mine. Screaming. Screaming. Pain. Fear. Scared, no not scared, terrified faces staring.

Lily and James in a huge augment. Lily walking away with angry tears down her face. James crying walking in the opposite direction of Lily.

Ice in my lungs with each breath I take. They're dragging me away for something I didn't commit.

Peter is pointing his wand at Muggles, red light blares from his wand, Muggles dying. Terrified faces of those unharmed by the curse. Unwanted death by those whom are.

"Unhand me." I can hear my voice is weak and quiet

"Off you go." The voice I hear sounded so distant.

An arm hooks around mine and I feel the jerk, the unpleasant pull of Apparition, suddenly I'm in Azkaban. Freezing, dark and dreary. It smells like death standing at the shoreline, teasing. It's hand extended to take those with it. Only to pull it's hand away, brushing their fingers.

This wretched place will be worse than death, but I am determined to keep alive. I will one day meet Harry when he's older.

"We lifted the no Apparition in and out of Azkaban for a mere thirty minutes. We can do that you know? It takes quiet the workload, but in your case; it's quiet with it."

My head is down as he is talking to me. I try to turn deaf ears but they are eager to hear his words. I'm innocent but they won't take it. I want a fair trail but they refuse it. Son of a bitch, traitor: Peter Pettigrew shall not get away with this. I'll be sure of that.

"I personally wanted to put you in myself. I have such the pleasure."

The Minister threw me into a small stoned cell, a some slit of a window I can see light filtering through. I can hear the whistling wind and the waves crashing against this forsaken island.

I can hear screaming of agony, I hear crying and whimpering; I hear nothing. Every thing about this place is horrible.

I have sat myself against the wall further from the entrance of the cell. They're gone. No one is here, anyone from the Ministry has left. Good. They can go fuck themselves; they're ignorance and arrogance has blinded them.

The night has been born and the light has died away. The darkness in this place is sinister. It's freezing, I'm shivering; I want to be warm. I want to me happy; sadness is setting in. Sadness is beating down, stabbing, stabbing; suffocating; every torturing curse to come out of a wand berating me.

I cannot sleep I feel such unease in this place. Death loves to tease in here; taunting for one to take its hand and crossover to the other side. I think I can hear it laughing and it's only my first night. Laughing as it welcomes the remainder of life left in those who want to die.

I'm hungry but I cannot eat even if food were to be offered to me at the moment. My body wants to sleep but my brain says no. I'm exhausted from the day's events. The cries in the cells surrounding people does not abate. My heart is being ripped from my chest. The warmth has being torn away from me; doused like a fire. Ice replaces the warmth; the feeling of ice replaces everything.

How long have I been in here? The moon is bright tonight. It's soft light attempts to push through and it weakly succeeds. I can see the dark figure of a Dementor at my cell. And I'm crying because my broom broke. But the damned thing doesn't stay long.

I've been having nothing but horrible thoughts; everything that has happened to me in any negative way.

I fucking didn't deserve this and at this moment my rage is white hot. I want Pettigrew to suffer in here. He does not deserve the name Wormtail. Traitor! Traitor! TRAITOR! TRAITOR! Damn bastard, rot in fucking Hell! Do not feel happiness any longer, son of a bitch traitor! I do not wish Azkaban on anyone but you, Peter, rot in here! Where have you gone?

There's another Dementor making its self present at my cell. I can see the light from the sun spreading it's cold rays across my cell. I stare into the dark abyss of this vile creature. Sadness and all negative feelings overpower me. The thing leaves and another files into view. It places a plate through a slate I did not see. Small portion of food in which I ravage and it does not taste like anything. A small glass of unclean water. I slide the dishes across the thing takes it and states directly at me. Always ice always. They're like shipwreck.

Death is in love with Life. Death forbids itself until the ever so agonizing moments of a dying being. I will happily accept the denial of Death's hand. I will cling onto life as Death sucks life out of me but refuses to take me.