Friendly Sorrow

Sir Wenton Mc Franklen

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Oak 22" Wand Essence of A Obsidian Hawk Talon
Wenton after days and days of being in Azkaban finally broke down. He fell to the floor, crying, cursing. The tears fell off his face for about 30 minutes. Even then after no tears were left, he cried. He moaned in sorrow and suffering. He couldn't belive what he had gotton himself into. Everyone he knew from his time in New Zealand would look down upon him. Nobody wanted to see him. Presently Wenton got up. He went over to the cemented wall. He grabed his own hair and started banging it against the wall. Soon, blood came rolling down his forehead. After about 4 minutes of trying to crash his skull he fainted. He blacked out of the world and fell to the gorund with a terrible bang.

This was how he was going to spend his days for the rest of his life. Trying to kill himself but blacking out before he can acheive his goal. He will cry at night and his sorrows will be heard forever, even if he gets out of Azkaban. The next person to enter will her Wenton and start to cry also. This was it, all he could do.

Wenton presently got up and walked over to metalic bars they were enchanted so as not to break with magic. THen an idea came to Wenton. Not magic, strength. He had already been training himself for more powerful magic. Now it was time to train himself for REAL strength. Then the idea faded. He'd have the entire Wizarding World on his trail trying to kill him.
 

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