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MidReal Story
Jungle Friends Clean Up
Scenario:Animal alphabet stories: Jackson’s jungle cleanup (letter j story)
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Jackson
He is a young chimpanzee living in a jungle. He is curious,determined,and playful. Jackson loves exploring the jungle and learning about new things. He helps his friend,Jules,clean up the jungle by picking up trash and toys. Jackson enjoys playing with his friends and climbing trees. He learns important lessons about responsibility and friendship while having fun in the jungle.
Jules
She is a young monkey living in a jungle. She is creative,energetic,and resourceful. Jules loves making art and coming up with innovative ideas to clean up the jungle. She invites Jackson to help her make the jungle a safer and more beautiful place. Her artistic nature shines through when she uses natural materials to create signs warning other animals about dangers like quicksand and snakes. She values her friendship with Jackson and enjoys playing games with him.
"Hey Jules, what are you up to?"
I asked my friend who was sitting on a tree stump, looking very busy.
"I am inviting you for a trip to the jungle, Jackson," she replied with a big smile on her face.
"A trip? What for?"
I asked her.
"To clean the jungle," she replied.
"Let me explain. You know that we have a lot of trash in the jungle. Like plastic bags, bottles, and toys that we have lost while playing games. It is also harming our friends who live in the jungle. Like the birds and the insects. So I thought that it would be a good idea if we cleaned all that trash up."
She explained.
"That is a great idea, Jules. I am in," I said.
"Great," she said.
"So let us get started."
She stood up from the tree stump and walked towards her house.
She opened the door and took out two big bags.
She gave one of them to me and kept the other for herself.
"Let us fill these bags with the trash in the jungle," she said.
We started walking towards the jungle, talking and laughing.
When we reached the jungle, we saw a lot of trash like plastic bags, bottles, and old shoes.
We filled our bags with all that trash.
After some time, our bags were full of trash.
I noticed that Jules had stopped picking up the trash and was looking up at something in the trees.
I followed her gaze and saw a small yellow bird thrashing about on a branch.
It looked like its wing was caught in a plastic six-pack ring.
The bird chirped frantically as it tried to free itself.
Jules and I exchanged worried looks, then I started climbing the nearest tree to reach the trapped creature.
The branches were slippery with morning dew, so my climb was slow and careful.
As I got closer, the bird's struggles became more desperate.
It flapped its wings, trying to fly away, but it was stuck fast.
I inched my way along the branch, reaching out slowly so I wouldn't scare it more.
With a gentle snip, the bird was free, and it soared into the sky, leaving us in awe of its newfound freedom.
After freeing the bird, I noticed that the sky had changed.
Dark clouds were gathering overhead, and the air felt heavy with electricity.
Jules pointed to more trash scattered near a muddy riverbank, so we hurried to collect it before the rain started.
The wind picked up, rustling leaves and making the branches sway.
As we stuffed the last pieces into our bags, fat raindrops began pelting us through the trees.
Jules tugged my arm and led me toward a cluster of massive banana trees.
Their wide leaves overlapped to form a natural umbrella.
We crouched underneath, holding our full trash bags close and watching lightning flash in the distance.
"Jules, do you think the storm will pass quickly?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady over the rumbling thunder.
"I hope so," she replied, her eyes scanning the sky. "But there's something else, Jackson—I found a map in one of the bottles we picked up."
"A map?" I echoed, surprised. "What does it lead to?"
While we waited for the storm to pass, I held up the wet map, and Jules shone her small flashlight on it.
The paper was wrinkled and stained, but we could make out a dotted line leading from the big waterfall to a spot marked with an 'X' near Jaguar Rock.
Thunder boomed overhead, and we huddled closer together, tracing the route with our fingers.
"It passes the bamboo grove," Jules pointed out.
"And there's the fallen log bridge. And look, it goes through that patch of red flowers!"
"Maybe we can follow it tomorrow at sunrise," I suggested, and Jules nodded excitedly.
As the storm slowly began to weaken, Jules and I stayed dry under the banana leaves.
Our shoulders touched as we studied the map, planning our treasure hunt for tomorrow.
I pulled out my small notebook and carefully copied the map onto a fresh page, just in case the original got wet.
Jules pointed out landmarks she recognized, her finger leaving smudges on the damp paper.
"Look, Jackson, it goes right past the big waterfall," she said, her voice filled with excitement.
"And then there's that fallen log bridge. Do you think we can cross it?"
I felt a surge of nervousness at the thought of crossing that rickety bridge, but Jules squeezed my hand reassuringly.
"We helped each other climb those trees earlier," she reminded me.
"We can do this too."
I sit shoulder-to-shoulder with Jules under the banana leaves, our backs against the rough tree trunk.
The rain drums steadily above us now, no longer the violent downpour from before.
Jules pulls out some jungle berries from her pocket and offers me one.
We snack quietly, watching the raindrops slide off the leaves above us.
As we eat, Jules points to the fallen log bridge on the map again.
"I crossed it last week," she says, her voice filled with excitement.
"It was a little scary, but I made it to the other side."
Her tail curls around mine while she talks, and I feel my nervousness about tomorrow's crossing fade a bit.
When Jules finishes the last berry, she leans closer to examine a detail on the map.
"The best time to cross is just after sunrise," she explains.
"The morning dew has dried off the wood, but it's not so hot that the wood gets slippery. And if you look closely, there are knots in the log that you can use as footholds."
She pulls out a stick and draws a small diagram in the dirt next to us, showing where to place our feet and which knots to grip.
As we finish our planning, the rain slows to a drizzle.
Jules carefully folds up the map and tucks it into her bag.
When she notices me still staring at her dirt diagram, she squeezes my shoulder and says, "Don't worry, Jackson. I'll be right behind you tomorrow."
We walk along the muddy riverbank, the morning sunlight filtering through the trees.
The fallen log bridge stretches out before us, its wet surface glistening in the early light.
Jules points out the specific knots and grooves she told me about yesterday.
I take my first cautious step onto the log, testing my grip on the damp bark.
Jules follows close behind, whispering encouragement as I find my footing.
Halfway across, a splash echoes from below.
We freeze, watching ripples spread across the water's surface.
A scaly head emerges, yellow eyes locked on us.
I grip the log tighter as its jaws snap at the air beneath us.
Jules tugs my tail, urging me to move backward.
My feet slip on the wet bark as I try to retreat.
The crocodile thrashes in the water, sending spray against my legs.
Without thinking, I release my hold and scramble back toward the riverbank, leaving Jules behind on the log.
My feet hit solid ground and I keep running, crashing through bushes and vines.
"Jackson, stop!" Jules shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos.
I skid to a halt, heart pounding, and turn to see her still balanced on the log, eyes fierce and determined.
"You can't leave me here; we have to face it together," she calls, her gaze unwavering despite the danger below.