You guys... This is my first (published) Harry Potter story! *insert David Tennat* What! Okay, so this is no darker than "A Broken Soldier". I believe. But seriously, the amount of favourites I got for ABS brought tears to my eyes, I swear. If you like this, please review. If you don't, what constructive criticism do you have? I'd really love from hear from you. Without further ado, may I present to you...

Declination

It's a dark and stormy night. But aren't they all here? Where is here? I think it's called Azkaban. I can barely remember it now... Can barely remember the sunshine, laughter, singing, loving, living. What were they? It is constantly at the back of my mind and I am always trying to bring it forward, to escape from this dark, dank, miserable reality.

They say, the guards say, the guards and their bright, shining things, for I forgot what those are too, they say that I deserve it. And then they go away and the evil, the black recesses of the human spirit are forcefully pulled to the front of my mind and it hurts. They know it does. But when the bad things come near again, I remember screaming and pleading and a dark, exhilarating rush of power. I remember cold, cruel laughter, my own laughter, mine and my peers. And then I remember Mother screaming, Father hitting, Sister, Brother, Cousin, Nephew, all laughing at me, and I sob and I scream and I plead but it never stops. Why won't it stop? Do I deserve this? Does any human being deserve this?

That's when I always I remember the people, the blood, the terror and the fear and the pleasure I felt and maybe I'm not human. Maybe I do deserve this. Because its all my fault. Every horrible, evil, malignant, bad thing that has ever happened to me is all my fault. My fault. My own and no one else's.

My fault.

All my fault.

It's my fault.

I'm in hell and I just want to die today. But I don't deserve death. I long for it, long for it with the severity of a trapped animal. I have to get of here. But I can't. There's no way out. I hear screams and pleas and the horrible laughter of the others; maybe if I find them we get out. I know they're there I hear them and sometimes see the things they've done. I feel lost. I remember being to told to hug a tree if lost. But there are no trees here. I know. I've looked. Maybe I just don't remember what trees look like. I don't know if I forgot because I can hardly remember even knowing I once knew what they were.

It's hell and there're demons there, the demons that feed me and give me these horrific visions of terrible things. I can see thngs scratched on the walls. Did I put them there? I don't know what they say. I forgot how to read, to write, to count, to think. My thoughts are jumbled and random and I don't know them. I want it to end and I keep hoping that the demons outside will come and free me from this hell I'm living. But maybe I already died. I honestly can't tell.

I don't know anything anymore.

Every time they put food inside, once a day, I can vaguely remember, I scratch the walls. I don't know tallies. I don't know how many days its been. Or months. Or years. Or lifetimes. Is this eternal torture? I don't know. I know nothing. Nothing at all.

Maybe because it's all my fault.