Okay, I now understand your concerns. But I do have a couple things to state. The first sentence reads this:

Max set the small border-collie down, letting it run back to Lily in her fields.

And this has nothing to do with a story I am (Not) writing, so I put it in here only to enjoy. 

Thanks!

It actually was for a school assignment and I just wanted to show it to the world. We had to re-create 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf' and we couldn't use anything like a thesaurus. Do you like it?

This relates to Warrior Cats in no way, I don't see why I should put it there. And anyways, that site is way too depressing. Have you even read the story? Nvm, just don't fill this chat with rants, one is enough from you.

Hello, I have decided to flood the forums with the nonsense of my stories.

Here is the first one:
 

Truth Mistaken 

Max set the small border-collie down, letting it run back to Lily in her fields. If he had a herding dog, then tending the flocks would be ten times easier. But no, the townspeople only gave dogs to shepherds in need. Max kicked a small rock out of the dusty ground at the ramshakle fence bordering the two yards. He didn't watch to see it hit, just stared at his grazed bare feet and lumbered away as he heard it chip the moldy, dry wood. His property wasn't the best, with only a couple acres to care for. Beyond that stood a small village, in which his mother would work every day. His father was always traveling at sea, so Max was alone in the dust most days. He would do anything for some company, but the village elders said only people with special needs deserved to have a dog. Lily had sprained her ankle four months ago when her father was away, and received a dog to help her with the work. The border collie had pups, and Lily got to keep one to have as her own while the rest of the jittery litter followed their mother back to the town to help others. Max barely realized the dancing white pelts of sheep now surrounding him, instead he let his mind ramble and rant about his lack of attention. Then it hit him; grab attention from the town. After that the plan started to fall in place, every loose end patching together like an old quilt. The next morning, it all started. He ran towards the village, the wind slightly tugging at his blond curls. "Wolf! Wolf! There is a wolf in my property!" he screamed, and his wails were so threatening that he was about to believe his cries himself. Max watched in awe as every door down the nearest road opened and heads of all sizes poked out. One little boy --around the age of four-- jumped out of a quaint, delicate home yelping, "Let's get it!" The other villagers joined the protest, and a stampede formed in the midst of the argument. Max hadn't thought of what would happen next, just joined for the fun of it. He felt yells and shrieks ring in his ears, and imagined his ears bursting at any moment. But when they arrived, all he could hear from the once roaring crowd was muttering whispers and grunts flowing through the wind. Everyone refused to look at him as the group melted away, only leaving an elderly man and Max himself. Max kicked at the ground and stubbed his toe, while the elder whispered something that Max could barely make out under the frail lips. "Lying always comes at a cost, and though it may seem fun at first, it is always regretful at the end, and loneliness will follow afterward." Anger welled inside of Max as he heard the taunting words. He started this because  he was lonely! Bursting with resentment, he stomped across the fields and into his house. He would call it home, but his mother planned on moving inland to the city over yonder soon. Charging into his room, Max flopped onto his rickety bed. All he wanted was to get attention, and his dream was fulfilled. But something about the elder's words clenched his anger, and it almost forced him to prove the words wrong. The decision was made, he would do it all again tomorrow. 

Max had been doing it for five days now, and it felt as if the first day was put on repeat. All doors would open and townsfolk would charge into the fields, only to find nothing there. It was so fun, he didn't even want a herding dog anymore. Everyone shouting at the "wolf" and comforting him made up for all attention lost. As Max lay in bed staring at the eroding roof on the merge of midnight, he heard a strange noise echo outside. He hopped out of bed as quickly as he could, all hairs on end. The moonlight poured into his room as he lifted the purple curtains covering his window. The glass had a feathery look to it due to his rapid hot breath collided into it. Max tried to see a shape or animal that could have made such a queer noise as he peered into the shadows of the night. Then he saw it. Blood-red eyes, ragged ears, stained-yellow fangs, and scars along a pelt with muscles rippling underneath. It was a wolf. He then realized the noise was a blood-curdling howl. All Max could feel was himself tripping over his own feet as he darted down the hall, blood roaring in his ears. He flung the front door open to find darkness surrounding him, and the faint wail from a baby sheep. "I'm coming!" he called into the night, but knew that talking to an animal was hopeless. It was almost as if the sky was falling, and there was only seconds to save the Earth. Max ran along the sleek yet rough grass, trying not to scream in fear. He noticed more eyes glowing faintly in the shadows, watching his every move. His mind was left behind in the house, and he could not grope any thoughts together to find a way out of this. Max tried to quicken his pace, but tripped on a jagged stone and fell to the ground. "Wolf! Wolf!" he shrieked as loud as he could, but no answer came. He realized that his foot was injured badly and that it could be difficult to stand, neverless run in terror. Growls and snapping of jaws filled the air as Max lifted himself. He tried to put all his weight on the other foot, and it surprisingly worked. He limped as fast as he could to the place where he heard the latest plea for help from one of his flock. Steady rainfall had begun, and lightning sliced the blackened night. Thunder shook the air as a growl sounded behind Max. He turned around to lock gazes with a large wolf, licking his already blood-stained muzzle. Without thinking, Max ran, slipping with his good foot on the sleek grass being bathed in silky water. His cut on his other foot was screaming in pain, though he tried to ignore it as he kept a slow, limping pace. Another flash of lightning lit the up the sky as he slipped and fell to his knees on the slimy, cold ground. He could hear pawsteps racing nearer as he struggled to lift his weight off the ground. Max managed to lift himself and ran a few yards with a limp in his step. Suddenly, he heard a snap. All his weight was knocked onto the ground. He felt his body slam into the earth as the breath was driven out of him, then all went black.  

Max woke, his gaze fuzzy as he tried to adjust to the bright light. Then he realized that he wasn't in his bedroom. Plain white walls with green embroidery surrounded him, with marble flooring and a tall wooden door. He was dressed in a gown, but he could see the indents of poorly-sewn stitches lining his left ribcage. He gazed at his feet to find one of them covered in stitches, while the other looked perfectly fine. Max jumped at the sound of someone clearing its throat behind him. "I told you this would happen," came the voice of the elder who he had met almost a week ago. Then the memories of last night flooded into him. Now he understood why he was here. "Did my mom find me after her night shift?" he asked shyly, not sure how the old man would answer. "Yes, but she has returned to work," the elder muttered softly. "Didn't you know that the townspeople wouldn't have helped you after all the times you tricked them?" the elder grunted after he asked the question. "Well no-" Max stopped himself. He was so caught up in his plan that he didn't take notice to the villagers. He now realized that their expressions were slightly decreasing from how excited and sympathized they were on the first day. Max nodded solemnly to the elder as if he knew what was going to be said next. "Your prophecy has been fulfilled. You will live for many days to come, and you will get a dog for company. But remember, don't cry wolf, for the truth will be mistaken at the time you need them most."

I will post my second one later.

Hope you enjoyed!

~Dancing :3

I think almost all of us were thinking it, so no probs :3

YESH YESH YESH I AM LAUGHING SO HARD YESH :3

My small question for the haters is: If you don't like Crystal, then why are you here at all? You should just go on with your lives and actually post something KIND for once. Of course, if you have nothing nice to say, then go ahead and Move along.

Thank you.

Most weird perverts I have met actually are quite young.. 

True, but she isn't giving out anything more than her gender and name

There are a million Crystals out there, how could the pervert find EXACTLY where she lives? He would need more information, like what state she lives in, her address, where she goes to school... 

My point is, nobody knows her on here, so she is safe