Broken Love
My mother mourns the loss of her mate. My father mourns the loss of his son. And I sit here, the daughter of Simba and Nala, the future queen of Pride Rock, trapped in a spinning circle of hate and remorse.
I remember my parents used to... love each other. They would stare at each other lovingly for hours, within each other's embrace. And I would lie in my father's mane, snuggled into it's depths, showing my love for them too.
When did it all change? It's like one day they loved each other; with every fibre of their being, and the next... everything was different. They quarled more than they nuzzled, scratched more than they caressed. Once the two lovers, the king and queen, Simba and Nala, became haters. They didn't care for each other, they were not unscathed by hate. Hate clouded them, filling them, engulfing them, taking over them.
And here I sit, the girl in the middle... of all the confusion. With no mother, no father. But there is a difference every day. Sometimes, I have a mother. Nala will stick up for me. Tell Simba he's being irrational, tell him he should spend more time with me. What she doesn't realise is that she ignores me too.
I never had a father. When I was born, Simba did not cheer my arrival, he did not give me a name, he did not congratulate my mother, didn't even smile at my appearance. He walked way. Walked away the day I was born, and he never came back.
It drove my mother mad. She was no longer the caring, beautiful lioness she had always been. She mourned and complained over silly things,
"Tell me I'm adored" She would say. "Please, tell me I'm adored."
Just like her father. The villain. The madman. Just like Scar. Like Scar, she let a loss drive her mad. Like Scar, she transformed from a caring individual into a dual megalomaniac. She let her personality... argue with itself, the two halves of her personality fought with each other; for they hated each other. The loving one she'd always been fought with an angry madwoman. And, unlike two adults debating, in an argument between the personalities, a solution was never met.
Nala, my mother, had witnessed sorrow. Had witnessed pain. She too never truly had a father. Her father was a villain, a madman. And she could not live through the shame. Through the sorrow.
At a young age, her best friend left the world. The king became Scar, an unruly madman with unearthly rules. The hyenas picked on her, she was without food for years. And worse yet, he was her father.
Scar forced himself on her. He wanted her; to raise cubs with her! No! She could not live out the shame. And worse yet, he was her father.
"One way or another, you will be mine" He had said.
"Never Scar, never."
But she did have a cub with Scar. Scar and she raised Vitani; a thin though promising young lioness; one who was willing to fight for the ones she loved to the end. To her death. And worse yet, he was her father.
When it came time for Simba and her to pass on the tradition of the circle of life, the two lovers had a son. Radhi, his name was. Radhi was a strong, well-built, lion genius. Simba and Nala raised him to be perfect, to be wonderful.
Then Radhi left. The loss carved a hole in the lives of my parents, and left them where they are today. Beyond repair. Beyond compromise. Beyond reason.
And it drove me mad too. To be treated as less, to be ignored, hated, never taught a thing by my parents. Still, I tried to be cheerful, but it is hard. How can I stay optimistic in this world of pain and sorrow?