If you believe in Jesus Christ put this in your profile and don't just ignore this, because in the Bible it says, ‘If you deny me, I will deny you in front of my Father in the gates of Heaven.

TWILIGHT OATH:

I promise to remember Bella
Each time I carelessly fall down
I promise to remember Edward
Whenever I'm out of town
I promise to obey traffic laws
For Charlies sake of course
I promise to remember Jacob
When my heart fills with remorse
I promise to remember Carlisle
When ever I am in the Emergency Room
I promise to remember Emmett
Every time there's a huge boom
I promise to remember Rose
Whenever I see something that holds pure beauty
I promise to remember Alice
When I'm at a mall and a cute outfit spots me
I promise to remember Nessie
When I see that beautiful bronze hair
I promise to remember Esme
When someone tells me they care
I promise to remember Jasper
Whenever my stomach isn't curled
I promise to despise the Volturi
When someone speaks of dominating the world
Yes, I promise to love Twilight
Wherever I may go
So that all may see my obsession
Because I know what the Twilighters know!!

ºø„ºø„„øº„øº
ºø„Twilight„øº
„øºTeam Edward ºø„
„øº„øººø„ºø.

If you have been diagnosed
with Obsessive Cullen
Disorder put this on your
profile if you've caught it too!

«• Twilight •» •.(•. .•).•
«• New Moon •» •.(•. .•).•
«• Eclipse •» •.(•. .•).•
«•Breaking Dawn•»
.•(.• •.)•.

...V...Put this
...A...On your
...M...Profile
...P...If
...I...You
...R...Have
...E...That crazy
...S...Obsession over vampires!

This is a story about a little girl that was abused. If you care at all, copy and paste this into your profile:

My name is Sarah I am but three,
My eyes are swollen I cannot see,
I must be stupid I must be bad,
What else could have made my daddy so mad?
I wish I were better I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy would still want to hug me.
I can't speak at all I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up all the day long
When I awake I'm all along
The house is dark; my folks aren't home.
When my mommy does come I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just one whipping tonight
Don't make a sound! I just heard a car
My daddy is back from Charlie's Bar.
I hear him curse; my name he calls
I press myself against the wall.
I try and hide from his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now; I'm starting to cry.
He finds me weeping he shouts ugly words,
He says its my fault that he suffers at work.
He slaps me and hits me and yells at me more,
I finally get free and I run for the door.
He's already locked it and I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me against the hard wall.
I fall to the floor with my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues with more bad words spoken.
"I'm sorry!", I scream... but its now much too late
His face has been twisted into unimaginable hate.
The hurt and the pain again and again
Oh, please God, have mercy! Oh please, let it end!
And he finally stops and heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless; sprawled on the floor.
My name is Sarah and I am but three,
Tonight my daddy, murdered me.

Child abuse, MAKE IT STOP!

PM . Follow . Favorite Joined Aug 6, 2009, id: 2039333, Profile Updated: Feb 13, 2012

Author has written 3 stories for Twilight.

Hey im Amanda and i love twilight saga books and movies
im a team edward but i love the wolf pack :)
this is the first time i have done a story so review as much as you can.
i also love supernatural and charmed hope you enjoy:D:D

MY BIG BAD WOLf

Sam -

Bella -

Jacob -

Paul-

Embry-

Quil-

Colin-

Brady-

Jared-

Seth -

Kim -

Esme -

Carlisle -

Edward -

Alice -

Jasper -

Rosalie -

Emmett -

Laurent -

Victoria -

This is a story about a little girl that was abused. If you care at all, copy and paste this into your profile:

My name is Sarah I am but three,
My eyes are swollen I cannot see,
I must be stupid I must be bad,
What else could have made my daddy so mad?
I wish I were better I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy would still want to hug me.
I can't speak at all I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up all the day long
When I awake I'm all alone
The house is dark; my folks aren't home.
When my mommy does come I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just one whipping tonight
Don't make a sound! I just heard a car
My daddy is back from Charlie's Bar.
I hear him curse; my name he calls
I press myself against the wall.
I try and hide from his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now; I'm starting to cry.
He finds me weeping he shouts ugly words,
He says its my fault that he suffers at work.
He slaps me and hits me and yells at me more,
I finally get free and I run for the door.
He's already locked it and I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me against the hard wall.
I fall to the floor with my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues with more bad words spoken.
"I'm sorry!", I scream... but its now much too late
His face has been twisted into unimaginable hate.
The hurt and the pain again and again
Oh, please God, have mercy! Oh please, let it end!
And he finally stops and heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless; sprawled on the floor.
My name is Sarah and I am but three,
Tonight my daddy, murdered me.

Child abuse, MAKE IT STOP!

IF YOU IGNORE THIS WITHOUT READING IT YOU HAVE NO HEART...BUT IF YOU FIND YOU CANNOT STOP UNTIL YOU REACH THE END THEN YOU MUST HAVE A VERY BIG HEART.

Mummy...Johnny brought a gun to school
He told his friends that it was cool
And when he pulled the trigger back
It shot with a great crack
Mummy I was a good girl
I did what I was told
I went to school, I got straight A's, I even got the gold
But mummy when I went to school that day, I never said goodbye
I'm sorry mummy I had to go, but mommy please don't cry
When Johnny shot the gun he hit me and another
And all because he got the gun from his older brother
Mummy please tell daddy that I love him very much
And please tell Chris, my boyfriend, that it wasn't just a crush
And tell my little sister that she is the only one now
And tell my dear sweet grandmother that I'll be waiting for her now
And tell my wonderful friends that they were always the best
Mummy I'm not the first I'm no better than the rest
Mummy tell my teachers I won't show up for class
And never to forget this and please don't let this pass
Mummy why'd it have to be me no one deserves this
Mummy warn the others, mummy I left without a kiss
And mummy tell the doctors I know they really did try
I think I even saw a doctor trying not to cry
Mummy I'm slowly dying with a bullet in my chest
But mummy please remember I'm in heaven with the rest
Mummy I ran as fast as I could when I heard that crack
Mummy listen to me if you would
I wanted to go to college
I wanted to try things that were new
I guess I'm not going with daddy
On that trip to the new zoo
I wanted to get married
I wanted to have a kid
I wanted to be an actress
Mummy I wanted to live
But mummy I must go now
The time is getting late
Mummy tell my Chris
I'm sorry but I had to cancel the date
I love you mummy I always have
I know you know it's true
Mummy all I wanted to say is "mummy I love you"
In memory of the Columbian students that were lost
Please if you would
Pass this around
I'd be happy if you could
Don't smash this on the ground
If you pass this on
Maybe people will cry
Just keep this in heart
For the people that didn't get to say "goodbye"

Now you have two choices

1) repost and show you care

2)ignore it and you have just proven you have a low-down, cold-heart

(Please just copy and paste this on to your site and show that you care)

A True Story

A teenage girl about 17 named Diane had gone to visit some friends one evening and time passed quickly as each shared their various experiences of the past year. She ended up staying longer than planned, and had to walk home alone. She wasn't afraid because it was a small town and she lived only a few blocks away.

As she walked along under the tall elm trees, Diane asked God to keep her safe from harm and danger. When she reached the alley, which was a short cut to her house, she decided to take it. However, halfway down the alley she noticed a man standing at the end as though he were waiting for her. She became uneasy and began to pray, asking for God's protection. Instantly a comforting feeling of quietness and security wrapped round her, she felt as though someone was walking with her. When she reached the end of the alley, she walked right past the man and arrived home safely.

The following day, she read in the newspaper that a young girl had been raped in the same alley just twenty minutes after she had been there. Feeling overwhelmed by this tragedy and the fact that it could have been her, she began to weep. Thanking the Lord for her safety and to help this young woman, she decided to go to the police station. She felt she could recognize the man, so she told them her story. The police asked her if she would be willing to look at a lineup to see if she could identify him. She agreed and immediately pointed out the man she had seen in the alley the night before. When the man was told he had been identified, he immediately broke down and confessed. The officer thanked Diane for her bravery and asked if there was anything they could do for her. She asked if they would ask the man one question. Diane was curious as to why he had not attacked her. When the policeman asked him, he answered, "Because she wasn't alone. She had two tall men walking on either side of her." Amazingly, whether you believe or not, you're never alone. Did you know that 98 percent of teenagers will not stand up for God, and 93 percent of the people that read this won’t repost it?

Repost this if you truly believe in God.

Girls Don't realize these things;

I'm sorry
that I bought you roses
to tell you that I like you

I'm sorry
That I was raised with respect
not to sleep with you when you were drunk

I'm sorry
That my body's not ripped enough
to "satisfy" your wants

I'm sorry
that I open your car door,
and pull out your chair like I was raised

I'm sorry
That I'm not cute enough
to be "your guy"

I'm sorry
That I am actually nice;
not a jerk

I'm sorry
I don't have a huge bank account
to buy you expensive things

I'm sorry
I like to spend quality nights at home
cuddling with you, instead of at a club

I'm sorry
I would rather make love to you then just screw you
like some random guy.

I'm sorry
That I am always the one you need to talk to,
but never good enough to date

I'm sorrow
That I always held your hair back when you threw up, and didn't get mad at you for puking in my car,
but when we went out you went home with another guy

I'm sorry
That I am there to pick you up at 4am when your new man hit you and for dropped you off in the middle of nowhere,
but not good enough to listen to me when I need a friend

I'm sorry
If I start not being there because it hurts being used as a door mat, only to be thrown to the side when the new jerk comes around

I'm sorry
If I don't answer my phone anymore when you call, to listen to you cry for hours, instead of getting a couple hours of sleep before work

I'm sorr
that you can't realize.. I've been the one all along.

I'm sorry
If you read this and know somebody like this
but don't care

But most of all

I'm sorry
For not being sorry anymore

I'm sorry
That you can't accept me for who I am

I'm sorry
I can never do anything right, and nothing that I do is good
enough to make it in your world.

I'm sorry
I caught your boyfriend with another girl and told you about it, I thought that was what friends were for...

I'm sorry
That I told you I loved you and actually meant it.

I'm sorry
That I talked to you for nine hours on Thanksgiving when your boyfriend was threatening you instead of spending time with my family.

I'm Sorry
That I cared

I'm sorry
that I listen to you at night talking about how you wish you could have done something different.

Ladies always complain and gripe to their friends that there is never any good guys out there, and they always end up with assholes who mistreat them. Well ladies, next time you're complaining, maybe look up to see who you're complaining to, maybe that special someone is right there hanging on your every word as usual, screaming in his head "Why won't you give me a chance?"
Because the person you are usually searching for is right by you.

If you're a guy and you agree with this letter, copy and paste into your profile as 'I'm sorry'

If You're one of the FEW girls with enough BALLS to copy and paste this into your profile, and you would never make your guy feel this way, copy and paste into your profile as 'Girls Don't Realize These Things'

This is a true story. A girl died in 1933. A man buried her when she was still alive. The murder chanted, "Toma Sota balcu," as he buried her. Now that you have read this chant, you will meet this little girl. In the middle of the night she will be on your ceiling. She will suffocate you like she was suffocated. If you post this on your profile, she will not bother you. Your kindness will be rewarded. Lucilla

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.