Grey. It was all grey.
Bleak grey walls, a grungy grey rag cloth covering the grey, metal 'bed' and a filthy toilet which had previously been white. But that was a long time ago. The almost infinite jagged scratches I had made in the walls told me I had been in this hell-hole longer than I needed to be. A few faint rays of sunlight struggled through a tiny hole I had managed to make in the wall and I added another scratch to the many others.
I could not only hear it, I could feel it.
The dementors were coming.
This happened at the start of every day. They would open our cells and we would all filter quietly into the 'cafeteria' and be served some meager meal which would do little less than sustain you, but no one dared to complain to a dementor about being 'hungry'. These creatures didn't have feelings and it was better off for everyone if we all understood that.
The prisoners on my particular 'cell block' all filed into the cafeteria and took their usual seats. Everything in Azkaban had to stay the same, uniformed and unchanged. It was a routine we were not allowed to break. I plopped down on the cold,hard metal bench which was an exact replica of the hundreds of others that had been placed all around the room.
Once everyone was seated and the room was quiet, plain grey 'plates', which were more like grey slates than anything else, appeared in front of us. Today, my breakfast would consist of a soggy haphazardly cut slice of bread, two thin strips of cold, hard bacon, a bowl of lumpy porridge and a cup of warm pumpkin juice.
How delicious.
I stared down at the questionable meal wondering how badly I actually needed to eat. Two low growls from my stomach answered the question and I picked up a heaping spoon of this slob they called porridge and gulped it down quickly so the taste wouldn't linger. The dementors usually hovered through the rows as we ate, but today, as soon as everyone was eating, they floated out silently. Now, this was not some grand escape opportunity. I had no doubt that there were thousands of other dementors waiting by the doors.
But what if there weren't?
I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Azkaban was horrible, no doubt about it, but I wasn't about to risk my life if I didn't have to. Most of the prisoners around me had gone mad, and those who hadn't were very close to doing so.
Aside from me, there was only one other person I knew who seemed as sane as the day he got put in this damned place.
Sirius Black.
I secretly envied Sirius because he hadn't just accepted the fact that he was quite possibly going to be in Azkaban for the rest of his life. He did not intend to sit back and let the dementors get the better of him.
He had a plan; a plan to escape Azkaban for good. And if I had anything to do with it, he would be taking me with him.
A/N
YeaH I finally uploaded the new start to this book and I just want to apologize for it being so short but I've been so busy lately and hoped this would be sufficient. I'll be on break for a few days starting Friday though, so I'll be working on the rest of the book and trying to make the chapters longer x
