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Helloooooooooo auience, or whoever you are. whatever you are. as long as you're reading this.

so this is my very first fanfic, it's of the disney tarzan movie, so obviously the characters and most of the dialogue belong to disney, not me. i just thought it would be fun to explore some depth into the characters, build some aspects into an already-existing story, and describe the scenes with words instead of pictures.

besides, i'm bored and it's the first day of my summer vacation. or night. it's 1 AM here.

sooooooooo... READ IT. tell me if it's good. i usually don't write stuff, i just correct people's essay structures during school hours. let me know if anything about it bothers you, don't hesitate to tell me what you think.

actually if its good don't tell me. i only want to know the bad stuff, since good things don't need to be improved, bad things do.

there will be chapters to follow, so you can expect them in rather quick succession.

Chapter 1: Fantasies and Insanities

She could hear the footsteps approaching, and saw the frightened look on the others' faces as they fled the area, leaving her on the ground. Her heart was still beating from the encounter just seconds ago, pounding in her ears along with the beating heat of the African sun through her several petticoat layers. Her eyes followed them right before they disappeared along with him, into the tall grass and trees.

"Jaaaane? Where are you?"

Her father's voice carried through the jungle, followed quickly by the man himself. Her father was short and squat, and quite like a rabbit. His fluffy mustache and ever present twitching and bumbling about portrayed that impression very well. Almost as soon as they had left, her father had hurried into the destroyed encampment, oblivious to their having been here. He landed near his daughter and threw his arms around her, losing his hat in the process, exhausted from searching, articulating her name over again. "Jane! Oh, Jane…Oh, thank goodness." You're alright, was the weary message in her father's grateful eyes, grateful that she was alright after all.

Jane couldn't give a thought to her father's worry, she was still captivated by her departed, and most unexpected guests.

Clayton entered the campsite just seconds after the professor, looking around in wonder at the damage done. "Good heavens, what happened here?"

Jane's father, the professor, patted her face with the palm of his hand, jerking her out of her astonishment.

"Oh Jane, we've been everywhere looking for you-" her father started to tell her, informing her of his concern, which she gave no notice to as she came to. She exclaimed with a start, surprising the dear professor.

"Oh, my goodness! Daddy!" Rubbing her head and gesturing wildly, Jane managed to say between breaths, "I was walking…and little baby! Little baby monkey! And I drew a picture-!"

"Yes? Go on?" the professor asked, intrigued by this all of a sudden, his concern quite forgotten by the both of them now.

"Suddenly, the monkey starts crying," Jane rolled her eyes at the thought of the monkey that pinched her sketchbook, with all her previous drawings in it –and had torn the pages out. Her father made noise of sympathy for the little creature she spoke of, a noise she ignored. She turned and faced Clayton pointing off in a direction she believed they had come from, or went to, or maybe they hadn't been there at all, but Clayton followed her gaze in that direction as well, clutching at his shotgun. "Then I turn around, aaand there's a whole fleet of them!"

"What, of what?" her father asked anxiously, eager to hear the rest of her story.

"There's a whole army of monkeys, a whole tree full of them-!"

"M-monkeys?" Clayton exclaimed, trying to follow her rant. "Monkeys?"

"-A whole fleet of monkeys! Screaming at me!" she said, conjuring wildly the pictures with her eyes, tracing her memories in the air with her hands, and impersonating their screeches.

"She's very good at this, you know," the professor said to Clayton timidly. He loved his daughter and her antics, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was a reason they were so exaggerated this time.

"Terrified, terrified I was! Suddenly I was swinging, through the vines, up in the air! Flying! I was in the air!"

"In the air!" her father repeated, making the same wing-gestures she was. Clayton was rather detached from her rant, watching with wary eyes.

"And then we were surrounded," she said, taking a deep breath.

"What did you do?"

"And Daddy, they took my boot!" she finished, perhaps a tad too focused on the missing boot.

"They took-? Those were the ones I bought you."

Ignoring this comment, she stared off into the distance, recalling him. "Then…I was saved, by a flying…wildman in loincloth…"

She wandered off into the camp, oblivious to its destruction and lost in her own thoughts about the mysterious man she had encountered. Would she ever see him again? He couldn't be too far away, and he was just too interesting to overlook…

Her father watched her walk away, and rested his head in his hand. "Loincloth…good lord."

"What is she talking about," Clayton snarled as he put his shotgun away, no intention to actually listen to the answer, but he professor was just as eager as Jane to tell a story, this a small snippet of his late wife.

"I haven't an idea in the faintest…but she takes after her mother, you know. She'd come up with stories like that. Not about men in loincloths, of course," the professor chuckled, before Jane mentioned the word that caught both their attention.

"Oh and there were gorillas."

"Gorillas?" both Clayton and the professor repeated, Clayton going so far as to grab her shoulders and shake her. "You saw the gorillas? Where, Jane, where?" had it been any other time she would have taken the greatest offense and this gesture, but she was too far off in her wonders and musings about the mysterious man in the loincloth. Turning her head to stare out into the forest, she considered that he might still be there, not too far from here.

"He left with them…"

Her father quickly slipped into her path of sight and bombarded her with more questions. "Who, Jane? Who?"

Her face slackened with some unknown feeling, she answered with the name he'd taught her. "Tarzan…"

"Tarzan?"

"The ape man…" she answered, staring off into the heights of the canopy, as if he had been there. Her father and Clayton exchanged looks, and allowed her to disappear into her tent.

"…I do believe your daughter has gotten as bit too much sun walking around with us. Perhaps on the next expedition she shouldn't come with us…she should stay in the camp," Clayton suggested, not attempting to coceal that he was somewhat miffed at the thought of sharing an encampment with someone whose sanity was becoming questionable.

"Yes, a good while of rest should do us all good," the professor agreed, hanging his head. "I don't think we'll find any gorillas if we go about it in the manner that we have been." Clayton too then left and found his tent, disappearing in the folds of it.

"…But…she's never invented something so strange before," the professor murmured to himself. Clayton's implications… was his daughter going mad? She was all he had left, after his wife had passed away. He'd been studying gorillas all his life, and he wanted to take her with him to see them, as she shared his passion for the animals. However, what if his bringing her here was what caused it to occur? The professor shook his head, picking up his hat and dusting it off. "No…surely…Jane's still…it's just a dizzy spell, brought on by the heat…it has to be…I can't lose my Jane, she's all I have left…perhaps it is just the heat and some girlish fantasies…she is that age anyway…"

Placing his hat over his balding head, the professor looked inside Jane's tent. "Hello? Janie?"

She looked up immediately, from scribbling lines onto the back of some used paper. He took note that she wasn't using her sketchbook. She'd probably already filled it up with drawings and doodles. "Yes, daddy?"

"Umm…it is rather hot out here, isn't it?"

"Very. I lost my parasol to those monkeys also, and the sun makes it all the worse, with the humidity and the weather here."

"Oh dear…Well, better make sure you don't get heat-stroke or anything, eh, Janie?" the professor chuckled nervously, playing with his hat. "Or dehydrated…or something to do with the heat. Maybe you should try to stay in the shade and keep cool…"

"Good idea, daddy. I'll change into something lighter, now, if you'll give me a bit. Afterwards I was thinking I could try to draw him and show you what he looked like," Jane answered, standing up and stuffing the paper out of sight.

"Alright then, I'll leave you to it," the professor nodded and left the tent. He tried to rationalize his daughter's story, and hope for the best. If Jane had truly gone mad, who would be there for him?