posted on Apr, 21 2012 @ 01:20 AM
The red-haired eight year old girl walked out to the balcony. Each foot trembling as she took a step closer to the edge.
The crowd erupted widely when they saw her.
She looked down and saw a mass of people. The number was well into the thousands. All were screaming her name.
“Kyla. Kyla. Kyla. Kyla. Kyla,” they yelled in sync. The noise escalated to a deafening level.
Kyla had been on the balcony a few times now, since becoming ruler, and it terrified her every time.
She waved once. Then, turning, she walked quickly back inside the palace. Sweat running off her small palms.
“Your Highness. I have some papers for you to sign.”
'Not more papers. What is it this time, Omaha? I don't understand what all of these forms are about.”
“It's nothing important, Your Highness. Let me worry about the forms. I'll make sure you don't do anything wrong. Just sign here.” He
pointed to a spot on the top of a cluster of papers.
Kyla was so sick of signing papers. At first, she used to sign her whole signature. It seemed to take forever when she had to sign hundreds of
papers at once, so she shortened it to just a straight line. She felt like all she'd been doing, since being admitted to the post of “The Ruler of
the World”, was signing papers. She had been the ruler for two months now. Two months since her school essay had caused the public to cry out her
name. The public had wanted her to rule the world.
“What is this I'm signing?”, she asked.
“Nothing important. Don't worry yourself with the details. You just need to sign.”
Reluctantly, she scratched her line across the page. “Omaha, when are we going to talk more about the food and housing shortage. I don't
understand why the people are cheering me, when I haven't done anything to help them yet. Have you thought about the ideas I told you?”
“Yes, yes”, replied Omaha. “I have thought quite a lot about them. You have some very good ideas. But, first things first. We'll get to
those other problems soon.”
Suddenly, with no warning or announcement, the door burst open and a security officer rushed in. “Your Highness, the Australians are invading.
Their fighter jets are already pounding the outskirts of the city. We have to get you to safety immediately.”
Kyla listened. “Why can't I hear the pounding from the jets?”
“Ah”, came the swift and sharp response from Omaha. “Two reasons. First, this room is heavily insulated against noise. Secondly, it has come
to our attention that the Australians have mastered a strategy to attach a silencer to their planes and the bombs.”
“A silencer? To a plane? Is that even possible?”
'That is the rumour, Your Highness. Now quickly. We haven't time to waste. Come with me.”
With a lack of any other options, Kyla obeyed. She had done everything that had been asked of her since taking office.
The security officer rushed Kyla out into the hall and down the back stairs. A regular car was waiting for her. Kyla was shoved into it, the door
was slammed shut, and the car took off. Kyla wondered momentarily where her limousine was.
A smile lit up Omaha's face as the car, just a short distance away, exploded in a fiery ball mere seconds later. He slowly turned his attention to
the security officer. “Well, that's one problem taken care of.”
“It certainly is. Later today, we will announce to the public that Kyla has taken ill. We should be able to keep that story going for a few
months. Then we will announce a terrible tragedy. Kyla died in her sleep peacefully after a long illness that was found to be terminal.”
“Now,” Omaha asked gleefully, “Is the rest of the board up to speed with what's happening?”
“They certainly are. They are waiting in the board room.”
“Okay. Let's go and start a new bloody war. There are still way too many people on this planet and food is in short supply. Make the
arrangements for the body,” he continued, ”And, make sure only your most trusted people know about it.”
Fifty years later, a nomad riding his camel in the desert came across a small stone statue.
Dismounting from his camel, he walked over to investigate. He read the name written on the bottom of the stone, “Kyla.”
Shaking his head, he walked back to his camel, and mounted. He had no idea who Kyla was and really didn't care. He was more concerned about the
war. It felt like it had been going on forever.