When Did This Happen?
by Sulkie Wolfen
Disclaimer; Come on guys, I'm above these things. I wrote an entire fic about not owning The Lion King.
Summary; Questions with no answer and answers with no questions. Scar wonders if he'll ever know.
Notes; Wow. Lion King fiction. Scar angst no less. It's been a while, so this'll probably suck.
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When did this happen?
I think I can recall a time when I was perfectly normal. However, I wouldn't describe myself that way any longer... and I'm not sure if I can trust myself. After all, what exactly is normal in the eyes of the insane?
Okay, so not the point. I asked a question- I'm not really sure who I asked, but I asked. Or did I? I didn't say it aloud, and I can't answer myself... so I guess I didn't really ask anything. Oh well- regardless of whether I asked, I want to answer.
But if I was asking, who would I ask?
I'm alone in the room. Well, it's not really a room, and I'm not really alone. But it, and I, might as well be. The only other one here is Zazu, and I've honestly demoted him enough that he's not really worthy of mention anymore.
Haha, funny hearing that from me. Calling another person not worth mention. If he's demoted, what am I? So I guess I am alone. No- wait. I guess the room's empty. Huh. There really is no one left to ask.
Well, if I can't answer, and there's no one to ask, is it really a question? And if there's no one to ask, is there an answer at all? Could there be? And if I did ask someone, what would they say? I guess that's why one asks.
But would they answer at all?
Most people are afraid to speak to me. Or if they're not, they're too impatient to answer my endless, guilt-ridden questions. And when they do speak to me, it's "there's no food, do something about it" and then they're gone. I don't really have time to ask questions, especially if they're off-topic. And they always are.
For there aren't really any questions to ask about the food. I suppose I could ask what to do, but if they were telling me to do something about it, they obviously didn't have an answer themselves.
Nobody would know what I was saying, if I asked them, anyway. And it's not like I could explain- I don't really know what I'm saying either.
I guess it's hopeless.
I'll never know.
Is that acceptable?
What do people here expect in a king? Am I supposed to be able to answer these questions? Could Mufasa have answered these questions? What about Simba? And will I ever know?
So I guess I'll just spend the rest of my life creating questions I'll never know the answers to, and answers I'll never know the questions to.
Scar.
Our horrible king.
Death.
Ruined.
No.
The Pridelands.
Mufasa.
When did this happen?
Am I adored?
Love, or regicide?
Who would I ask?
Would they answer?
What am I?
Would they do the same?
I'll never know. I'll always be in the dark. Asking and answering, but I'll never know what. And Zazu will mope and wisecrack, and Sarabi will complain, and Mufasa will haunt, and the pride will starve. And I'll wonder.
Won't somebody answer my question?