Million dollar lion

By K

Content Warning | This content is intended for mature audiences only. It contains depictions of abuse and adult language that some viewers may find disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised.

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There was that feeling of the pain of constriction of- you are just not able to have anything. mom grabbing my neck and squeezing it and cramming my head towards the toilet bowl, gagging me from squeezing my neck, dad comes in and bashes my head in the inside of the toilet bowl very hard. mom pushes my head further in the toilet bowl and yells be quiet shut up and do what I say always. What you have to say or who you are is nothing and not worth anything. You’re shit, and you belong right down there in the toilet, now think about what you’ve done while laying in your own smell. She then slams the door and locks it. Dad had already left unaffected. I see clearly why i scare so easily at haunted houses with those shady characters. The room is dark and it smells. Utterly alone I lay in my own pee. Wet, cold. Frozen. Scared. Feeling what they wanted me to feel. What they’ve wanted to not feel and spent a lifetime running away from. Face down in a line of shit and piss. To take what they couldn’t. To hold what they aren’t strong enough to carry. A lion will believe it’s a house cat if trained by human idiots. Until the human idiots push that lion a little too far and it sees its true reflection in cracked glass blood on the mirror the lion sees the full moon and roars its first roar. Tears in its eyes the lion sees them now as mice, as grasshoppers when they were once giants. The lion shakes off the shit shakes off the pee. No longer pissed. The lion unhinges the door, breaks the lock effortlessly. The lion runs to the room and roars at the two human idiots. The lion looks down on them for the first time like Scar looked down on Mufasa hanging over the cliff. For the first time the lion feels no fear. He feels slightly disgusted and at the same time He feels pity. He feels completely unbothered and uninterested, yet loves his idiots, for all is love. No longer prey, they are grasshoppers. Little cubs that haven’t eaten a true meal in so long. He walks by them and doesn’t look back. The rain sops him in heaves. He is washed he is clean. He is free to walk in any direction he chooses. Scars are there but he looks at them like war wounds. He’s proud of how far he’s come and that he conquered the land he walks on. Anywhere he walks. Raised a domestic cat he flees and embraces being lion king. He has the calmness of one who has conquered ten million battles. He knows he has nothing to lose but has everything he needs inside. He looks at you but past you. He has not the taste of human idiot on his brain. He desires it not. Like one who ate wayyyyyy too many peanuts in a peanut eating contest and no longer can tolerate the taste of peanut.

What you see as wounds, he sees as the way out of constriction. Each one healing almost mysteriously effortlessly. Hes so beautiful if you can actually catch him in his natural state. You could just keep looking and looking hes so purely beautiful. As if each time the idiots struck him it made him more beautiful and more and more…You cant look anymore tho you had your chance. The lion’s already down the line far from here. He’s fast from so much training he can outrun you like a beast in the night. He’s solid. He’s war battled and always alert. You may knock him down when the moon is full, but you cannot  knock him out. Ever. He is your sweet-one never sour. He has won already. 

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About the Author | The author is a time-to-time writer, not necessarily their main passion but one of them.