Yesterday my sister put on Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry Potter brings back memories from when I was a child. I remember begging my parents to read the first book to me when I was about six. It was strange to watch, the actors look so young, when I first saw the movie they looked much older. Time is a weird thing.
From my past, I was drawn to the dementors. They draw away all peace, hope and happiness. An admitted metaphor for depression. Remembering back to my vague obsession, when I researched JK Rowling for my school speech, she went through depression. I don’t think Harry Potter would have been the same without it. She did a very good job of describing it. I wish I could express things better.