The Lion King In The Human World Part 3

The Finished Picture.

MUFASA(Second to last chapter by the way, UNLESS I decide to show their lives a few years ahead. What do you think?)

"Dear the baby in Mommy's tummy," I said, reciting my first letter to my little brother, "I just found out about you. Mommy and Daddy have been wanting a second child for a while now and they finally got you."

I knew all eyes were on me. I was the crazy old man who wasn't suppose to know where he was, let alone a letter written when he was seven, or six. That part's all hazy. I just went on reciting my letters to my little brother whom I raised as if he were my son. "Dear Taka," I went on, "You were born! I saw you in the little crib thing. You are little. Mommy says I was that little one time. Daddy's not happy. Grandma and Grandpa say that you're sick and you may not walk. Mommy and Daddy are fighting over that now. I'm scared. Love your newly big brother Mufasa.

"Dear Taka. Another adopted family wanted me and not you. But I'm not leaving you behind. They said that I had to think about my future. Don't they realize," I looked up at my brother with a bomb in his hand. He stared at me, as white as a sheet. He must still think I'm dead. "they're just telling me to be selfish. They want me to think about me when all I care about is you. And I was told not to be selfish. I don't know what adults want from us these days. I counted the money the orphanage set aside for your treatment. Ten dollars was missing. The nannies don't even care. I'm getting a job if that's what it takes to get you better. Love your working big brother Mufasa."

I gripped the armrests of my wheelchair. "Dear Taka," I grunted as I pushed myself up. I hoped I wouldn't fall. "I fainted at work today. I found out I'm working too hard and exhausting myself. If I keep going, I might become sick too. But I can't stop." I did not fall, at least, not yet, "My sickness won't be life-threatening, but yours is. I'm sure the doctors are exaggerating, how can you get sick from working? Love your hopefully not sick big brother Mufasa."

I walked to my family, they all were staring at me. I'm not suppose to remember all those letters, or get up out of that stinking wheelchair and walk. But I am. Heck, I'm not suppose to even be alive so why are they so surprised? Shouldn't they have expected this sort of thing from me by now? But I didn't pay any attention to them, I kept my eyes on Taka.

"Dear Taka," I said, " I don't even know what to write. Love your bored big brother Mufasa."

"No," Taka breathed, "It can't be you. You're dead."

"Dear Taka," I told him, standing right in front of him, "I have never been more disappointed in you than I am right now. You are a grown man and you're acting like you did when you were five and somehow got a flute. I don't know where you got the flute from, but you acted silly with that flute and you're still acting silly now. All this, crimes against our country, against humanity, against our family, against me. I raised you little brother. I took care of you your whole life. I helped Grandma and Grandpa while Mom worked, I cared for you in the many orphanages, apartments, and even in our adoptive families' houses. I gave you my childhood, my health, my money many times for your treatments, my time, my love, everything. Let me ask you now Taka, is it worth it? Is it worth it to betray me, the one who stuck by you when you needed me? I could have left you in the orphanage and lived a happy childhood and had a different life. A life where I could have gone through life without being diagnosed with an illness at seventeen. Where I could have relaxed with my friends. Where I could have made friends. Is it worth it to lose everything over what, a few pieces of green paper that you spend and are gone? I would have given you love all of our lives, so would Simba, Sarabi, and a decent girl. Love for money, it's a poor trade."

Taka stumbled backwards, dropping the bomb. Kion's friend Bunga grabbed it and worked with some dark brown haired woman to defuse it. But Taka kept his eyes on me. "How?" he stammered, "How are you here? You're dead. My men killed you."

I crossed my arms. "I spent 33 years in a coma," I told him, "I missed watching my son grow up. I missed his graduation. I missed his wedding. I missed becoming a grandfather. I missed watching my three oldest grandchildren grow up. I missed years with my wife. I missed becoming an uncle. I missed my niece and nephew's graduations. All because you wanted money. Just because I cared for you when you were a minor and sick doesn't mean that I won't expect you to stay under my care when you're an adult and healthy. Is it worth it Taka? Was all of this worth it for money that you'll never get?"

Taka still stumbled backwards and stared at me. Zira had fainted when she realized who I was. Many of Taka's criminal friends were shocked to see me alive. I still looked basically like how I did when he tried to have me killed. Just with more wrinkles and gray hair instead of red. Also, I'm gonna fall.

"Simba," I said, "I'm feel like I'm falling. Help." Simba grabbed my arm and held me up.

"How are you doing this?" Simba asked. I could only shrug at him. "Anyone have a cane they're not using?" Simba asked.

"I'll find one," Bunga said, bomb defused, walking away to find a cane. I don't where he'll get the cane, but I need one.

Kion's son's mother's boyfriend, I think senior moment, took hold of Taka. "Thanks sir," he said, "I think you may want to go to our on team doctor. Dr. Spiller, get your old man kit." That was offensive. Am I sure he's family, of sorts?

I miss the old days when we had simple family members, aunts, uncle, grandparents, cousins, and the like. I sound like an old man, wait, I am an old man.