A/N: I do not own The Lion King despite my wanting too. I am doing this for my own entertainment. By the way, mainly everything is in past tense for a purpose! Thank you for reading and having a wonderful day/night! :)

Chapter One:

My parent's and I liked to live very humbly, but on one summer when I was thirteen, we indulged to stay a month in Africa. The safari life was my favorite part of the trip. I adored the smell of fecund vegetation of layers of grass upon dry soil, where even I had a hard time to suppress the urge to run out into the fertile fields of devil thorns' and flame lilies'. The air smelled sumptuous with the different varieties of crops being grown due to the pollination of the bee species. Despite having an outrageous fear of butterflies, for a short while the colors of the wings of the small creatures seemed to captivate my attention and brought on the figments of my imagination. To me, the color yellowing resembled the illuminating sun and its whiteness remembled the clouds in an ever blue sky.

At night, when the crickets sing their lullabies and drew me into a deep, deep sleep, I imagined the moon sending its smiles for the night critters to awaken their day, thus indicating that no matter where I am in this beautiful, wildlife haven, there always is somebody restless. Of course being the Tarzan that my family is, we did not rent any automobiles for the duration of our stay. Sure, walking upon miles and miles on scorching terrain was not ideal to most of the majority, but my parents and I adored the life almost living in the civilizations before they were industrialized. Well, maybe except for my mother. She just liked to tan in the sun! The radiation is a terrible thing for the human body, I know, but try to tell that to my mother!

Watching the herds of buffalo migrate north, the flocks of birds soaring through the blue yonder, and groups of elephants splashing each other with their trunks were the reasons why we kept on coming back for vacation here.

"Lula, you know I only come for the sun!" interrupted my mother.

When we first arrived in Africa, I promised myself that I would communicate with the animal residents, so I could write down their intake of life in another viewpoint as never told before.

On one particular day, however, my parents and I were separated. I had to biggest urge to pee! It was early on a Saturday morning and I probably had awoken due to the chirps of birds that flew nearby or from the snores that escaped from my mother's mouth. My father's gassy body, most likely didn't help either.

"I wish I had my own tent to sleep in..." I thought to myself. Before his stink could penetrate my nose and make my eyes water even more, I zipped the tent open and took in a breath of desperately needed fresh air. Shielding my hands above my eyes as an attempt to block out the sunshine, I stepped out onto the magnificent pasture of sod. Wanting to relieve myself, I knew I should take my backpack equipped with my safety knife, ibuprofen, limited crackers, a box of matches, and a bottle of water just in case.

"You never know what could happen!"

Whn I put this pack on my back, I ignored the protests of my body that screamed because of the weight of the bag packs heaviness. I trudged westward, as this was where the perfect spot of a mixture of shaded trees were. About forty feet away from my camp site, I know this location ensured enough privacy so I had enough peace and quiet.

"Maybe I could ask dad for us to visit the giraffes today?" I questioned to nobody in particular. Before I walked back to camp, I looked around to depict a better view of my surroundings and noticed a tiny bulbul among one of the branches in the tree I was under. Then, I watched as it chipped to one of its family members and bounced off the twig, and flew to my right side on the ground.

"Careful!" I exclaimed quickly when the bulbul almost fell on its own feet.

"This is absolutely amazing. I got to glimpse the life of a bulbul when other friends my age played on the computer all day. They sure missed out!" While I was about to move back to my tent when the young-ling flew away, but I heard a shout with a mixture of an outraged growl in the distance.

"AAAHH!" I heard both my parent's scream.

"M-mom...? D-dad...? I immediately felt dread rushing over me and my legs became jelly. My heart felt like it stopped too. A part of me knew that I should of run over to them and wonder what was going on, but my conscious told me to stay away and out of sight. I hide in a bush that was near and prayed to g-d that everything was going to be alright. This fern brought me back to a couple of days ago when the following happened:


*Flashback*

"Oh come here you half-witted fish!"

"You yokel, stop moving before I send you to the mattresses!"

"Fudge nugget!"

Listening to my dad complain is one of the reasons why I cherish him so. After he caught a couple of fish, we brought them back to camp.

"Honey, you alright over there?" inquired my mother as she was putting on her tanning lotion for the fifth time this afternoon. After about a hour, my parents were tired so they decided to take a quick nap.

This was the highlight of my day yesterday. As per usual, I stood awake instead of going to sleep for a purpose. I wanted to surprise my parent's with an already made lunch. I sauntered over to our version of a mini "kitchen", although it was only a fire pit.

When I looked at my father's masterpiecw, his Picasso, I remembered how proud he was it it. He felt estatic and yelled to his audience, which was just my mother and I, "Lu, look at the fire I built!" blurted my father.

However, to bad for him because that, was when my mother and I both noticed his shirt on the fire pit. "Hey honey, your shirt is on fire..." sneered my mother while we both laughed hysterically. Looking back at the occurrences between them only resulted in my amusement.

Being very careful, I ushered my father's "half-witted" fish that he caught yesterday and put it over the fire, which I had just lit with my box of matches. The smell of grilled fish invaded my nose and almost made my mouth water. One thing I loved more than anything in the world was food. It satisfied every fiber of my being.

"Questo sta per essere deliziosa!" I imitated in an Italian accent. "It is going to be delicious!"

All of a sudden, I heard some movements in the shrubbery to my left. I brought my hand to my pocket and gradually took out my knife I packed with me for the trip. I clutched onto it shakily.

"This is not a scary movie! This is not a scary movie!"

"Is anybody there?" I managed to sputter. The bristling in the hedges stopped at the sound of my voice. Thinking everything was okay now, I exhaled and mocked myself.

"See Lu, there is nothing to be jittery about." I contemplated personally, but much to my dismay, a wee golden hairball put my branch that was cooking the fish to his lips and hastily tugged it to wherever he was going. I only caught a tiny glimpse of him because of the trail he left behind.

"Now, Lula, if you do ANYTHING to my fish..." my father said to me after he caught it.

"Oh cripes, let me have my fish back!" I panicked, not wanting my head to be put on a platter.

I reached out and almost whisked towards the meager lion, but I assured myself that it was not worth the trouble. Well, what I meant was that my legs got tired of jogging.

"Maybe my dad will understand?" I could only hope!

"I just hope he likes grilled fish…" I bantered and strolled back to wake up my parents and had to explain how a cub ate our meal. They never thought of me the same since.

"OF COURSE LIONS LIKE FISH LULA!" wailed my father as my mother burst out laughing.

"Only that would happen to you!"

"Now I am going to have to catch another one!" He started to walk away but turned back and said:

"You better hope that I find another chub!"

I swear I thought my head was going to be served for a meal that night!


Having been brought back to the present, I noticed that drops of sweat were pouring down from my forehead and I had to shake my shirt from my anxiety. Staying hidden for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes, I then saw in slow motion three hyena's jump from my left in what I could barely make out to be elephant grass.

They licked their lips and laughed maniacally, probably their attempt to frighten me. I then held my breath as they drew closer until I saw that one of them were dragging my mother's lower body across the plains. All of a sudden, I had the biggest need to vomit. I started to move backwards, but my foot hit something hard, perhaps a rock being unnoticed, and I the need to stifle my groans of pain as I lifted my head off the ground. The three hyena's were on top of me in an instant, and one of them pressed down unto my arms. A flash of pain struck my body. I felt as though my arm shattered like broken glass.

I looked into his eyes and noted a strip of white fur that looked like a messed up mohawk from the late twentieth century. Drool dripped from his mouth and his tongue stook out from amongst his revolting yellow teeth. To lighten up the atmosphere, I imagined that his teeth were yellow because of to much caffeine. I tried to stand up, but his paws held me back in protest to these actions. His other two buddies began to encircle me and then I was completely surrounded. In penchant, they fondled with their chapped lips again, but most of my attention was to the own holding me down. I failed at my endeavor to kick him off and only succeeded in injuring myself further. At this point, I had begun to loose hope.

"Well look who we have here, a little girl..." the hyena snickered maliciously.

"Just one more meal for us to eat!" he growled and almost clawed at my chest, but a loud roar interrupted his actions. A figure plummeted from behind, and drove the hyena off of me.

"Go now!" roared the obscure silhouette.

"Wait, did that lion just speak?"

'When could hyena's speak English too...or am I speaking their language?' I wondered.

"A talking lion though? Seriously?"

"Did the image of my dead mother make me go insane?"

"Am I going to be a psychopath like the people I see on television?"

As my thoughts twisted and turned in my head, I realized that the figure left me a chance to escape. "Thank you Mr...?" remembering my mother always telling me to be polite.

"Or should I say she used to tell me to always be polite..."

I weakly stood up and blinked my eyes a couple of times to get the dust out. While I standing up, the weight of the loss of my mother seemed to dawn on me. I closed my eyes and tears sprang to them, but I knew that there was a change my father could still be alive.

"I am not stranded yet..." I managed to whisper, yet it seemed more like the murmurs of leaves if anything. I slowly strut back to the camp site, remembering the times my family and I experienced here all the way.


*Flashback*

"Lula, look at these meerkats!" exclaimed my father excitedly.

I glanced at him just to see flashing lights as he snapped each photo.

"Snap, snap, snap!" "Snap, snap, snap!"

"Um dad, are you talking for the camera?"

"Hey, I got to be entertained somehow!" "Just don't tell your mother!"

"I don't think I want too..." I lied.

He squat very low to the earth as if he was a cat ready to pounce. He stood stagnant to capture a family of meerkats searching for insects to have as a meal. One of them, however, perched near one of the pigeon-holed rubbles. The male meerkat took a deep sign and swung its legs back and forth, where he imitated a children's swing set. To my eyes, he looked unsatisfied with his current lifestyle.

Feeling sympathetic toward this bemoaned fellow of mine, I opened my bag to get a pack of crackers out. I took about two and crunched them in the palm of my hands, and threw the crumbles at him.

"Food always makes me feel better!" I hollered to the desolate meerkat and watched him look at me curiously.

"Lu, let's move on to the Northern Plains!"

"Okay! Give me a second, dad." I replied and waved goodbye to my new friend. I could not help but giggle when he brought a couple of cracker remains to his nose and stuck his tongue out to lick the remains of the crumbles slowly. I swore I perceived a small smile form on his stern face.

"Thank you..."

I looked back at him after I heard this. Did he just say something?

"Oh gosh, I must be crazy!"


"Lula, do not hog all of the toilet paper..." exclaimed my father sternly.

"Lula darling, I love you and all, but give your father and me a break..." joked my mother.

More negatively thoughts sprang into my mind after thinking about the past. I could not help but try to picture my mother's half torso funeral; my father's empty casket, and maybe mine too. I tried to imagine them lying peacefully in heaven, or somewhere above the clouds, but I just did not want to think of their deaths. How are my parent's going to comfort me if they are gone? What is going to happen to me with no more other living relatives?

Even though I was only forty feet away from the site, it seemed like yards away to me. I wanted nothing more than to pass out from no energy and from the pain, but I had to check if my father was alright. Looking up, the sky held traces of mixtures of red and pink, the brightening morning sun in which I usually adored, but not this time around it did not amuse me. To me, this image was now stained with bloodshed and murder, the worst day of my life, and most likely the last day too.

I finally approached the site, and fell to my knees at the sight of its gore. My father's limp body stuck out like a sore thumb. His bloody hands next to our canteens and his right leg thrown above the tent. Shoes that belonged to both of my parents were scattered across the territory; the pictures I drew of our times here were ripped apart into pieces and neglected. I then collapsed onto the floor in anguish and lamented no more. I truly was all alone.


The Next Night

When I came to, the first thing I felt was pain. My body ached from the acts of yesterday-my head felt like it was going to explode. My arms stung from all the mosquito bites there, but my misery was mainly emotional. It took a plethora of energy to ignore the ringing in my ears from the taciturnity in the vicinity.

I sat up a bit and wearily blinked my eyes several times. While I tried to scout my environment, it appeared to be nightfall. Pieces of camp site objects remained, but my parent's bodies were no longer in existence.

"Some brutes must of had them as their meals…"

In the beginning of the trip, I was memorized by the songs of the crickets and the colors of the sunrise, but now the sky was totally pitch black and the moon would not send its sympathies down to me. I attempted to stand back up for the sake of my well-being, yet due to it being so dark outside, I tripped over my own two feet.

I lay my head back down and closed my eyes again. My sobs heaved my body forth, and the evening breeze made me shiver with fear. Usually at this time, my parent's would be sleeping with me. They would of-

"No, I do not want to think about them right now!"

My tears burned from the blisters that covered throughout my body; my stomach rumbled and begged for food to eat. Not having the stamina to remove the few crackers that I had left in my sack, I closed my eyes and whisked away into a restless slumber.


Dawn

I stood up and forgot about the world around me. With my backpack on, I walked eastward. I am not sure why I wanted to go to this direction, but my gut told me to head this way.

"This is where you need to go…"

I pushed all of my thoughts out of my head and moved on. On this day it I promised that I would move on. No more weak, feeble, sickly Lula. I cannot let my agony overturn my ingenuity and purity.

"Help is on the way!"

I will not let myself die out in the savannas! This would dishonor my family's dignity. While hiking to the east, I came to the conclusion that my supplies will deplete before aid arrives. I only had ten crackers and a now half empty water bottle left. I tried to ration everything as much as I could, but if I did not get assistance soon, my body would shut down and I would become food for a baboon.

As I continued marching, the rationing of food finally emptied. The pains of hungry forced my arms and legs to shake with such a fiery exertion that I was forced to rest. Sitting on nothing but a piece of timber to not further dirty my pants, I took in my surroundings.

Baobabs covered verdant domain, and there were Hornbills perched among their porches. Blossoms swayed as the winds brushed their petals from left to right, especially as hundreds of honey bees spread their pollen to repopulate the region. The sun was a florescent yellow with a touch of red or orange, though contoured. What took my breath away was the warmth from its rays. It comforted me like a mother would to her baby; it made me recall my times of my mother holding my newborn cousins and of the times of my father consoling me when people from school bullied me for my prudence-

"Did I not say not to dwell upon them!?"

When I was about to trek forward, a sharp shift seized my attention. I caught a couple of hushed tones in the distance. Of course due to being alone for so long, hearing these voices made me quite unnerved. I perilously wanted to explore to the area where I heard these sounds, but the agitation from my legs were decelerating my typical pace.

"I need something to eat..." I wanted to beseech but couldn't form the words from my dry mouth. Just one sip of water would of made my day, though I was too late.

"...I do not think I have any days left..." I grunted and let out a wheeze. Definitely being prone to panic attacks was not helping.

"Please...help..." I muffled feebly and knew no more, but little did I know an auburn mane lion and a pale cream lioness was examining me from afar.

"Can we keep her!?" inquired a young male lion.