Hi there! Yes, this is my profile, creeper. My names Lauryn! I enjoy reading and writing and ANIMALS! Twilight is my FAVORITE subject to write about on Fanfiction, and I love to read Twilight Fanfictions. You could say I am an "ameutuer" at writing, so screw you! Haha, just kidding! I love your guyses reveiws, and I want them to be COMPLETELY and UTERLY honset. It has come to my attention that SOMEONE reviewed on my story about Alice and Jasper, and there one-shot. This person, at first, made me mad and upset about their reveiw. But, after some thinking, they had a point. But seriously, guys, dont put reviews about me sucking or something. I just want nice, honset opinions.

Anyways, more about me! I have blonde, curly hair, and blueish gray eyes. My best friend, Austin, and me are completely opposites. Were kinda like Bella and Alice. Im Alice and shes Bella. I'm always bubbly and happy, shes always shy and quiet. She's self consious while I'm supper confident. Through our differences, shes the bestest friend a girl could ask for!

The Reason (By: Trevor Romain. Book name: The Art of Caring)

I made a promise to myself that day. One I didn't keep.

It happened when I was in the army in South Africa. I was walking through a feild hospital filled with kids from a small rurlal village who has been brought to the clinic for treatment from the army medical corps. The conditions were abysmal. There were almost six kids to a bed, it was nauseatingly hot, and there were flies everywhere, especially around the corners of the children's eyes and mouths. As I walked down the center aisle, I caught sight of a little boy, who was about 5 years old, sitting on the edge of one of the hospital beds. We locked eyes, his huge, brown eyes pleading. I noticed with shook, he had no legs. Instead, I saw dirty bandages wrapped around to stumps. The boy had lost his legs in a landmine accident on the Angolan border. As I walked by, the little boy put his hands up and said "Sir, can you hold me please?" I will never forget the haunting look of sadness in his eyes. Huge tears rolled slowly down his cheeks and dropped to the floor, their singnifigance lost in the dust and grime of war. The Sergeant Major, who was walking alongside me, grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the child. "Romain," he grunted. "Leave him alone." We were there for security. We weren't supposed to get emotionally involved. As he pulled me away, the boy spoke again. "Sir, please, please can you just hold me?"Something happened to me that moment that I will never forget. It felt as if a huge hand came out of the sky, reached inside me, and flipped a switch that turned on my soul. I push the Major's hand away and held the boy. With that little boy in my arms, I made a promise to myself. A promise that I will never waste a second of my valuable life. That I would use my creative talents to change the world for children. But I didn't. I quit my job as a advertisement seller and began writing books for children. I am now one of the happiest people I have ever met. And I'm not done yet. I still hear the little boy's voice.

When you were 5, your mom gave you an ice-cream cone. You thanked her by yelling at her that it's the wrong kind.

When you were 9, your mom drove you from swimming to soccer to soccer and one birthday party to another. You thanked her by slamming the door and never looking back.

When you were 10, your mom paid for piano classes. You thanked her by never coming to class.

When you were 12, your mom was waiting for a very important call. You thaned her by talking on the phone all night.

When you were 14, your mom paid for a month away at summer camp. You thanked her by not bothering to write a single letter.

When you were 16, your mom taught you how to drive her car. You thanked her by taking it every chance you got.

When you were 18, your mom cried at your high school graduation. You thanked her by partying until dawn.

When you were 20, your mom drove you to college. You thanked her by saying goodbye outside the dorm so you wouldn't have to in front of your friends.

When you were 26, your mom paid for your wedding. You thanked her by moving halfway across the world.

When you were 30, your mom fell ill and needed you to take care of her. You thanked her by reading about the burden parents are to their children.

Then on night she died quietly and everything you did came crashing down on you.

If you love your mom, copy and paste this in your profile. If you don't, then you won't care if your mom dies, will you?