My life is hell. Not figurative hell, as in, actual hell. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I'm destined for hell. I swear that Satan has a special spot for me in his pitch-black heart.

As I wallow in self-pity as per normal, my thoughts are cleared when footsteps echo from the corridor. That's strange, I think to myself, no one ever comes down this corridor. No one would have the guts too. That's because this corridor holds the worlds most dangerous criminals, such as terrorists, thieves, murderers and psychopaths. This corridor is reserved for the worst of the worst. Rumor has it that my rustic putrid smelling cell once belonged to Sirius black, whoever the hell he is. So that is when you are probably wondering how I got here. Frankly, I do not know, but I care more about getting my ass out of this shit-hole than worrying about my so-called mistakes. The footsteps grow from a faint whisper to a loud clack with each step. The footsteps are the first actual real things I have hear out of this corridor since I got here, besides for the other prisoners and guards.

As curiously pity takes control, I find the self-will to push my fragile body up from the cold surface drenched with sweat. Come on people; have you heard of air conditioners. As if that is bad enough, I have had no Wi-Fi!

I push up from the ground, but as I go to peek my head out of the cell, my hands and legs are violently hauled back, making me collapse. I almost forgot about the handcuffs. They entrap me, taking away my freedom. There are five cuffs on my body. Two on my hands, two on my legs, and 1 around my neck. As the cold metal contrasts with my warm skin, I hear other voices. Desperate and reckless, I crawl as far as I can without being dragged away by my chains. The voices are getting closer. As they come towards me, I catch a few phrases

"Abuse of rights I tell you"

"She's an abomination"

"It's a basic need; she's already so far behind"

"Under no circumstances can this be allowed!

As my heads tune out from I conversation, my heart skips a beat. There talking about me. However, how, can I be so modest? Well, I am the only female on this corridor. Greedy fat filled men occupy the other cells. As terror seizes me, I wonder if my death has arrived. If so, I am gonna welcome it with other arms. The other prisoners must be asleep now, cause if they saw them, they would go ballistic. I squint to see if any sunlight radiates through the thin shutters that connect me with the outside of this hell-hole. None. Therefore, it's a thunderstorm either outside, or nighttime. I wonder if they drugged them. Being a prisoner here makes you a light sleeper, so they must have mixed something with the food. Glad I have decided to turn vegan. As I squint to see what I can learn about what time it is from the sky outside through the minsicule shutters, I hear the door opening on my cell.

I turn around in shock, with my fists out, ready to attack. But standing in the hallway isn't the guards who take me to beat the crap of me for fun. With the pitch black cell, I squint to see two silhouettes, one female, one male. As I attempt to adjust my eyes, one of the bodies takes something out of a pocket. As I try to see what it is, a light as bright lighting lights up in front of me!

"Ahhhhhhhh!" I scream! I fall to the floor, pushing myself back till I can feel the outline of the bricks through my filthy uniform.

"I swear to god, come any close and I'll rip your throats out" I murderously say.

As I snarl at them, my eyes cannot miss the light blazing in front of them. Suddenly, I become curious. It is a sun, blazing orange, red, yellow, and white. As it captivates my gaze, I reach out to touch it. Suddenly, breaking me from my thoughtful state, the two silhouettes come out behind it. I growl, mad to my cell being invaded.

I glare at them with intent and curiosity. As they step further into the cell, I see one is a man dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt. He has dark olive toned skin, pitch-black curly hair, and Amber eyes. I stare at him in awe. This is the first sign of actual human life. Life, beyond these walls. It was also hard not to observe his handsomeness. The other person was a woman. She definitely is involved with politics, I think. She dresses professionally, wearing black slacks, a white long-sleeved blouse, and a dark leather jacket. Her hair brown hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, with no lose strands. She has fair skin, and brown chocolate eyes. She has immaculate posture, I think to myself. I suddenly feel very self-conscious about my attire, grey loose pants and a black shirt, not my fault there is no shops around here.

They stare at me, although the man stares with fear and horror. Good, I think, let him. The woman stares at me with intriguing and curious brown captivating eyes. To break the weird silence I ask "You do realise this is a prision cell for the worst humans on the planet, not fashion week right?"

The man looks at me confused and horrified, whilst the woman laughs.

"What?" I snap.

The woman looks at me before replying "Nothing my dear, just finding it amusing how Mr. Machery here doesn't know anything about fashion week".

I stare at him, now with the dumbfounded look on my face "Seriously?".

Before he could snap back a reply, the woman interrupts him.

"Oh yes. Pure-bloods like him don't experience or know about muggle traditions." The woman said.

'Pure-bloods? Muggle? What the hell is this woman talking about?' I think.

"Oh, we forgot to introduce ourselves. Please, this is Malcolm Machery, a new auror for the Ministry of Magic. And I am Hermione Granger."

She says her name as if she's a celebrity. Moreover, for the magic part, I raise my eyebrow.

"Your who now? And magic of what? What the hell! Since when did magic exist! Did it occur when pigs walked upside down, or when atoms could talk?" I say this in my thick Australian accent.

Hermione stares at me, before asking "You don't know who I am?"

"Nope"

"What about Harry Potter"

"No fudging clue"

"Hogwarts?"

"Hog what now?!" I ask, raising my voice. Malcolm stares at me, making me lower my voice.

"Oh my" she whispers. She has suddenly turned paler than what she already was.

Before she looks like she's about to faint, Malcom saids

"You don't know anything about magic, do you?"

I didn't know how I did it, but I somehow stood up and yelled

"Since when in bloody hell did magic exist! No, I haven't hear about that, or your stupid Harry Potter who I think is a potter, or hogwash, or ministry of MAGIC!"

They both stare at me in utter awe. They turn to each other, sharing a silent conversation making my blood boil even more. Then Hermione turns to me. She asks me in a voice mixed with curiosity and sympathy.

"Um, what is your name sweetie?"

"Annabelle!" I snap.

"Oh, Annabelle, what a gorgeous name that is"

"Get on with it Granger." I backchat. She looks quite confused, as if no one has ever talked back to her. Must be because she is so special!

"Um, as I was saying, Annabelle, you are um, well, How do I put this, a witch. You are a witch Annabelle."

I stare at her, thinking how stupid that is. She takes my silence somehow as a cue to talk more, because she continues.

"Annabelle, this is a prison for the darkest wizards and witches in the Magic World, which um, includes you."

I stare at her. Nothing she is saying is making sense. I feel like my insides are about to explode. Maybe that's a side effect of realizing you're a witch. Or maybe the side effect of being stuck in a cell with other wizards. Take your pick.

I feel my eyes start to sting, and I know the water works will come crashing down any minuet. I can't let them see me like that, so when I try to demand that they leave, I only manage two words in a raspy tone.

"Get. Out."

She starts to say something, but then I scream "GET OUT!" I already feel the hot tears piercing my cheeks. I don't know why I'm crying. Maybe because I'm an emotional wreck, or maybe because I'm a witch, which might've been useful 1 year ago before I was thrown into this shitty cell. Malcolm whispers something in her ear.

Hermione turns to me, and looks at me with an empathetic gaze. I almost am so close to losing control. Instead of saying anything close to an apology, she said

"We will meet again, Annabelle."

Then, they turn away. A part of me wants to yell at them to come back. Malcolm takes out the mysterious object, and before you could say fudge, the light disappears. They walk out, shutting the cell door behind them. I hear the locks snapping back into place, and the sound of footsteps walking away, slowly becoming quieter, until silence is all that is left. They leave me trapped in a cage of darkness and depression. I slowly walk to the back-right-hand corner of the room. With tears staining my clothes, I slide down the hard walls. I rest my head against the brick, cuddle up my legs, close my eyes and let the darkness envelop me.

Hi guys! Please review and let me know what you think!

-Greenie-Girl