The New Begining For The Rest of His Life

[Sir Wenton Mc Franklen]

Day 1

Wenton had just recently been cast away to Azkaban. He didn't know what he would do now. Once in a while he saw dementors prwoling around, but they didn't bother him much. He did not have his wand. He was striped of his Ministry Uniform and didn't have anything to live for in here. It was the most horrible thing in the world. He heard terrible screams at night and there were spiders and snakes and rats on the floor where he slept. Wenton had seemed to almost forget magic. Something made him revert to his instincts. Then he finally knew what he was going to do with his life. He was going to get tronger someway somehow.. He would train in the horrid dungeons of Azkaban. Tommarow he would finally start. Tommarow he would begin to grow stronger. He would strengthen his non wand magic. HE would make his spels so powerful as to even cast 2 or 3 at the smae time.

 

[Sir Wenton Mc Franklen]

Day 2

Wenton had woke up from a short and uncomfortable sleep. He didn't know where he was at first, but then remembered all that was bad. He also remembered that it was a time to train. Wenton got up from the floor. He walked over to the concrete wall and began to punch it. Swinging here and there. He punched and punched until blood slid down his knuckles. After about half an hour of punching he stopped. Presently he got on the ground and started to do push ups. After 40 minutes of that he did it one-handed with his left, then with his right. He was begining to become extremly drowzy and tired. He stopped. He examined himself. He looked at all the bruises he got. And looked at the blood that dripped. He ripped of his shirt and started to shred it into long strips. He then stated to qrap up his hands so there woldn't be so much pain. He then comenced to training for another hour before falling asleep on the floor bushed. He would wait for a few morsals of food to be brought to him before he began training again.

 

[Sir Wenton Mc Franklen]

Day 3

Wenton had finally got a little something to eat. It was what was probably morining to him. He had been in prison for 3 days now and it was draging by slowly. He started to do his routine exersizes. After about a few hours he stopped. He wanted to do something else. What else was there to do. He couldn't just leave Azkaban and expect them not to do anything. He was sorry he had caused so much pain. Now it was his turn. It was his turn to feel the pain that had been there for the others.
After about a half hour of contemplating on what he should do next, he decided he would either throw his life away as a Death Eater or be something. He pondered and pondered. What he needed was a friend.