>From a.f.l-k and posted here. A short (and IMHO very effective) fanfic from a poster named Jeffrey Reed. Note that I have put in an asterisk to replace a vowel in one word which might be construed as being mildly vulgar by some. Otherwise, this is exactly as the original poster put it up. Dave Saint, FCOS ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Date: Mon, 10 Aug 1998 01:06:44 -0400 From: "Jeffrey R. Reed" Newsgroups: alt.fan.lion-king Subject: "Sarabi's Lament" - a short fanfic Lines: 96 ------------------------------------------------- "Sarabi's Lament" (a brief soliloquy delivered by Sarabi, spoken only about a week after she was informed that Mufasa and Simba were dead) I have to get away from those loathsome hyenas sometimes. Why in his right mind would Taka ever allow them to walk upon our land? Personally, I don't trust them at all. And do you know why? THOSE DAMNED B*TCHES KILLED MY MOTHER IN COLD BLOOD!!! I will never forgive them for that, NEVER!!! Therefore, sometimes I have to get away from the problems tormenting my pride and visit what I feel is the last vestige sanctuary and tranquility in my world: that lone acacia tree upon the gentle slope, far away from the other trees in the whole savannah. As I lay down on my side, I ask myself one simple question: Why me, Aiheu? What have I ever done to make you take them away from me? I roll over onto my back and look into the branches of this tree. I'm almost immediately awashed with memories of my mate, my lover, my best friend from birth, Mufasa. You see, one hot afternoon, after we had been wrestling and he had pinned me down for the last time, we ended up resting underneath this very acacia. Then, with the fire in our eyes and desire in our hearts, we made love for the very first time. And when it was all over and done, we cuddled, caressed, and even cried happy tears of joy, knowing that if we were lucky, we'd soon be blessed with a cub all our own. Now, however, the only tears I spill are ones of sorrow and pain. Oh gods, I miss him so much!! I wish so desperately that he'd come back to me, if only just for a few minutes. All I want is just for him to hug me with his powerful arms and feel him caress me, nuzzle me and kiss me as he says in that beautiful deep voice of his, "Oh gods, I love you, Sarabi. I love you more than life itself." I'm also reminded of my precious little son, Simba. He didn't deserve to die either. He was only 5 months old! I guess it's true what my older pride sisters believe: it always hurts when you live longer than your children do. That's another reason why looking upon this tree fills me with painful memories; this place was where I gave birth to him... It was a strenuous, draining experience, but it was DEFINETELY worth all the sweat and tears to bring him into the world. I can remember feeling as omnipotent as Minshasa when he suckled against me for the very first time; it felt as though nothing could destroy my euphoric state of happiness. I looked forward to watching him grow up to be the king, but just for that moment, as I hugged him to my breast and kissed him repeatedly, I simply wanted him to stay my sweet little lion cub forever... I snap out of my reverie and realize that I'm only looking at my empty paws. The epiphany strikes me like a zebra's kick to the jaw as I weep bitterly for a long time. I keep thinking to myself that maybe this is all a bad dream, and that I'll wake up and find Simba and Mufasa before me. But it isn't. My husband and my son are dead. I have to live with that... I thought it was very profound of my mother Avina to once state that "a world without tears is a world without love". I fully agree: we cry for our loved ones because they might be gone to us physically, but they're not gone inside our minds and hearts. Well, I can't hang around here much longer. I still have responsibilities to keep; I still have to look out for my pride sisters and help them in our hunts. They are all I have left to keep my sanity. If it wasn't for their sympathy and comforting, I surely would have killed myself the first day of this living nightmare... (sigh)....goodbye, my family...maybe we'll meet again in another life... ......but not again in this one...... THE END By Jeffrey R. Reed (originally written on April 28, 1997) (it would have been Madge's 60th birthday, too...) If you have any comments about this short story, e-mail me at jreed64@cybertours.com Bye for now, Jeffrey