Sorrows of a Prisoner
Author's Note: I wrote this when I was extremely ticked off at one of my best friends, because he'd done something horribly stupid. Anyway, this story is not very happy, but I mean, he is in prison after all. Anyway, let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sirius, as much as I wish I did, or any of the other characters. They all belong to J.K. How come she gets to be so lucky?
Ch. 1
Sitting in the dark, grimy, dank cell, watching the rats scurry by, he thought.
What had he done wrong?
A particularly fat, gray rat scuttled into his cell, and he picked it up by its tail. He said, "This is for you Peter," before he bashed the rat repeatedly against the wall, well after it was dead.
He sank to the ground, sobbing before he flung the rat away. He folded his arms over his knees and buried his head, still sobbing, still making the same pitiful noises.
"Why Peter? Why did you do this to me? To Lily and James? To Harry? Oh Harry. I'll probably never see you again. Why did I chase after that rat? That scum? Why didn't I just stay with you? Hold you? Protect you from the world, which at that moment had taken away everything you'd ever known. Your parents. My best friends. He took my life when he took your parents'. They were my life. My family. You were my family."
"How many years have I been sitting here, rotting alive? Five, ten, one hundred? It doesn't matter anymore. I've had enough. I'm getting out of here, and I'll get that rat if it is the last thing I do. All I need is a plan. It won't be long now Peter."
With that, he shuffled over to the pile of rags that served as his bed, holding onto the newspaper clipping left by the minister's visit. The cold was setting in as the dementors made their rounds.
He fell asleep, dreaming of ways of breaking out, the eerie sound of the dementors' rattling breath in the background.