In the early morning, when the forest was still wrapped in pale mist, little Lizza clung to a low branch near the riverbank. She was an orphan baby monkey, too young to understand why her mother never returned. Her small hands trembled as she searched the trees, hoping to see a familiar face. Hunger and fear followed her everywhere, but she tried to be brave.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps shook the leaves. A big male wild monkey appeared, his body strong and his eyes sharp with dominance. He noticed Lizza instantly. Without warning, he rushed toward her, roaring loudly. Lizza screamed and tried to escape, but her weak body was no match for his power. The attack was fast and terrifying. He pushed her down, grabbing her roughly, leaving her deeply hurt and shocked.
Lizza’s cry echoed through the forest, high and desperate. It was not just a cry of pain, but a call for help. Again and again, she cried the only name her heart remembered—Caca. Her voice broke as tears streamed down her tiny face. She curled into herself, shaking, her small chest rising quickly with fear.
The big male monkey soon left, satisfied with his show of strength. Silence returned, but it felt heavier than before. Lizza lay still for a moment, afraid to move. Every part of her body ached, yet her spirit refused to give up. With great effort, she pulled herself toward the tree roots and hid among the leaves.
Moments later, soft movements came from above. Caca, an older caring monkey, heard Lizza’s painful cries. She rushed down, wrapping Lizza gently in her arms. Caca licked her wounds and held her close, offering warmth and comfort.
Though deeply hurt, Lizza finally felt safe. In Caca’s embrace, her cries slowly faded. The forest was cruel, but compassion still lived within it. Lizza survived because hope answered her call.
