I feel the cool sensation of happiness leaving the body. Cool sensation? No. I feel the painand frigidness of any pure thoughts leaving me.
Cold. Alone. Forgotten. Abandoned.
We alone fought the dementors. But we are now cold. No freezing. Freezing in meager attempts at clothing. We are forgotten by the Dark Lord himself. Abandoned. Once I believed him to return for us; but the others and I are not so sure anymore.
Could it be true? Can we truly be forgotten? We alone praised him. We alone went to that wretched Hell Island for him. What thanks do we recieve?
13 years of Hell.
Our hopes of freedom deminish; the dementors are taking may of us; but not me. There is nothing left to take.
'Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.' Went the sound of flesh against stone.
No one will return for us. We are alone and abandoned. With only these fiends for company, death is a welcome guest in my cell. Please; take me away.
But what is this? My arm tingles slightly... while it glimmers deeper red. Master. We remain here. Your most faithful remain within.
Your most faithful are locked in Azkaban.