Story by A.G. Smith
“uhg! The kingdom of Nobel needs to understand that the big maple tree is are’s! Its been in my family for thousands of years, it’s the one thing every King of the Kingdom of Evergreen leaves for his humble son. Which will soon be my son!” Rrawed King Edward the 11th. “w…well I am positive they won't take it if we…” I was suggesting to my highness, “IF WE WHAT, BOY?!” roared the King, “uh..well if we …maybe show are …fersessness?” “BRILLIANT! Maybe your long brown hair isn’t that dumb after all.” exclaimed the king in pure joy.``You really think so?”I spoke in the greatest feeling, my role model finally applauded my effort. My whole life I knew this is what I wanted to be and who I was going to be! “WE’LL DECLARE WAR!” yelled the king in his most frosess voice. If I only knew what was coming, oh how I would do anything to change what I said or at least what I didn’t say, but I didn’t. It’s currently February 1st, all the civilians of Nobel are celebrating some idiotic religion. Fortunately it’s banned here, the king is insisting that we attack now, he’s even giving me a promotion with the complement of “Your smart green eye’s did it” it was actually my brain…and my eyes are brown but never be rude to the king. 11:59 it’s official we’re attacking at 12:00 I've got so much gold I got dirt skin from no baths or even a one gold lake rent, I’m only doing this for the gold 12:00. Attacking. “MMMMM!” I screeched with my mouth bitten closed as they injured my leg with their absurd long sharp birds. “THEY HEARD YOU” Commander announced in furry. “THEY ARE ABOVE US '' I yelled to the others. It poured down billions of thin sharp materials I've heard of once, the anonymous blades no knows who threw them, it was the kingdom of Noble creation. ALL MY MATES, COLLEGES, FRIENDS...family ALL dead from the rain EVERY first born child…deceased by the gruesome rain. It’s been two years now. I'm working as a slave in the Kingdom of harvest. I can only write in this journal when they're away, all over a tree. Therefore something becomes precious, not by the face value, but by what value people believe it has.