Heās running but heās not moving.
Heās screaming but nobody hears him.
He can see it all unfold in front of him, his father smiling, the cameras flashing, a man in the crowd raising his arm...and he canāt do anything to stop it. He canāt even shut his eyes. Heās forced to watch, frozen in place, as fails to save his own father again.
He hears the pop, so loud it almost bursts his eardrums. He sees the splotch of red blooming from his fatherās chest. He watches, helpless, as he topples over towards the ground. He tries so hard to just get his legs to move for godās sake, his dad is dying and heās not doing anything, but itās no fucking use.
Slowly, the crowd turns until theyāre staring at him. He realizes everyone he loves is there, and theyāre all looking at him with disdain. His mother, Kiara, Merida, Nala, Ariel, all of his friends, and they all have pure hatred in their eyes.
He can hear his father on the ground, coughing and sputtering and wheezing for help and heās fucking pushing himself just to take one step, please just one step but nothing happens besides him getting more and more frustrated until he lets out a desperate roar.
āPlease, god, somebody help him, please. Heās dying, canāt you see? Heās dying! Why are you all just standing there, please!ā
Itās no use, nobody moves, and suddenly all he can hear is a low, ominous chuckle. He looks up and sees his uncle standing over his fatherās body, a deadly grin resting on his lips.
āUncle Scar, please, just help him.ā the words, pained, leave his lips in a desperate gasp.
Scar only continues to laugh.
āOh Simba, canāt you see? I canāt do anything for him. The only person that could have saved him...was you.ā
He falls to his knees, begging and swearing for his body to please just move Iāll do anything, please, but it doesnāt matter. Heās too late. Heās always too late. He raises his head, praying to the Kings for some sort of miracle, but notices only too late that the sky above him is completely dark. The stars, it seems, are dead too.
Simbaās awakened by a pillow thrown at his face and for a moment he forgets where he is. Heās covered and sweat and his hands are shaking, but he tries to ignore it as he looks up at Kovu, whoās currently laying on the couch above him.
āOw, dude, what the hell? Iām trying to sleep.ā
āSo was I, but you were fuckinā yellinā.ā
Heās glad that his face is obscured by the dark. āHeh, really? Mustāa been dreaming of your ugly face.ā
He can see Kovuās outline roll over and hears him mutter under his breath, voice thick with sleep. āYeah whatever, man. Just shut up and go back to sleep.ā
Simba lowers himself back down to his pillow and sighs. He can still feel his hands shaking and he knows for a fact that he wonāt be going back to sleep tonight, but he squeezes his eyes shut anyways and waits for morning to come.