forum This is painful

Started February 11, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

Right?!

Warriors: You couldn’t have been a little more clear on what the heck we’re supposed to do!?

Starclan: *wispers We can’t. We are too mysterious.

hahahahahaha!! So true!

Lmao
Starclan: * Whispers * We are supposed to be this way, Erin made us this way. Blame her.

Haha! Starclan: Whispers we have a bet to see how enigmatic we can be.

Starclan: It’s really fun annoying the Warriors with mysterious prophecies! We love to watch them struggle!

Starclan: We enjoy watching them completely misunderstand our ridiculously abstract prophecies.

I wonder if Starclan ever gives false alarms. Maybe pranks the warriors with really stupid prophesies that seem legitimate?

That honestly seems like something they would do. Like the newest ones wanting to mess with their still alive friends, and the older ones who are beginning to fade just sitting them shaking their heads at them.

Yes! I would totally do that if I were them tbh!

Just imagine Hollyleaf just messing with a very exasperated Jayfeather

HL: "I have a prophecy to give you"
JF: "Well, what is it?"
HL: "Your mum"
JF: long-suffering sigh UUUGGGHHHH

Why did this turn into a warriors chat this is not what was meant to happen

Most threads go off-topic.

This is now one of those threads. We need to fix this now.

Do we really have to fix it?

As a socially awkward person, if I had no idea what we all are talking about i'd be too shy to even comment on this thread.
And I know a vast majority of people on here are probably like that too.
Maybe make a Warriors thread and add the link here, so everyone you're talking with can join it.
Just an idea.

Alrighty!

Lol did you add a warriors thread

Now I did. I forgot to. XD

Lol okay thanks. Back to the subject: I dare everybody to post their old writing here!!

Well, you asked for it. This may trigger someone. Please don't slam me. This is a futuristic, ww2 vibe Christian story that has no plot. Kind of like Number the Stars and The Giver smashed together.
Have fun.

One

The explosions shook the building as people fell dead. Blood gushed from the wounds on my shoulders. I heard the screams of terror silenced by the chunks of ceiling falling on chairs and people alike. My face burned as fires roared. Bibles crushed, the few left now a days. I felt myself losing consciousness. My eyes burned and I gasped for air. ‘Is this the end Lord?’ I just had time to think before everything went black.
I had no idea that today my world would be flipped upside down. I didn’t know that today I would almost die. I didn’t know that today the house of my Lord would be bombed and me and seven others would be forced on a journey to save our faith and families from being destroyed.
It’s the year 2200 and the world’s been bonkers for centuries. The country of the United States has gone to hell, literally. There is no morals, no right or wrong. Anyone who doesn't conform with the new way of life is slandered, reported, arrested and put through “The Washing”. “The Washing” is the government's way of trying to brainwash Christians and other criminals out of our faith and “bad doing”. The weak minded collapse in this test and are released into the modern world and are stripped of their personality and are turned colorblind. A chip is placed inside their left arm to monitor them. If the person is strong willed and the Lord is truly with them, then they are able to resist “The Washing” and are taken to a extermination camp, where they are killed.
Christians are being killed daily and churches bombed, our Bibles are burned. Any remaining Christians are forced into hiding. Insest, homosexuity and transsexuality, all things that our God forbids that are done on purpose, are more common than ever.
Store bought food is no longer safe. The government injects tons of chemicals and hormones into the food to replace the lack of real food because many people are now growing their own food and refuse to sell it to them. They do this to try to conform us. The only food that is safe is homegrown foods. Due to lack of nutrition the majority of the population dies at fifty years of age.
Guns and any other weapons are banned and if anyone is caught selling or buying them they are sent to “The Washing”. There are barely any forests left in the city areas. And the forests that are left had been induced with hormones to make the animals act in certain ways to back their cases of why what they do is right. Luckily the animals have grown accustomed to avoiding hormone foods and thrive off of other plants.
Jobs are hard to come by because most of manual labor has been replaced by robots. It’s hard to come by if you don't live in the big cities so small towners grown and trade homegrown food for other resources like books.
Entertainment has gone bad. Hollywood is now just a bunch of satanists and pop culture is just words slandering God and Christians. We rely mostly on books from the twenty first century. They are in such demands that they are worth five to ten bushels of HGF. (Codename for home grown food.) You can’t trust anyone, not even in the small town of Orchardville, Tennessee.
I heard muffled whispers around me, things i just couldn’t make out. I strained my ears and I was able to hear a chunk of a conversation.
“No- dead- leave.” I heard from a mysterious voice. I briefly opened my eyes and saw a man in black clothing with a mask on. And I lost consciousness again.
I opened my eyes. There was a stinging sensation on my forehead. I tried to get up but, something stopped me. “Delilah, you need to rest. I’m treating your wounds.” Shepherd told me.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“After the majority of the building collapsed-”
“What? Let me help I’m okay.” I replied pushing his hand away from me. I got up and dusted myself off. I scanned the area. Dead bodies littered the area where there wasn’t debris. I spotted a flash of red hair.
“Dawn!” I yelled and made my way towards her trying not to step over all the other dead bodies. Her chest was moving. I dug her out and placed the small thirteen-year-old over my shoulder. I winched in pain, my legs felt so weak. I climbed over the debris towards Shepard who already had his stuff ready. Dawn felt so limp in my arms. I gently placed her down in front of Shepard who seemed to blush at the sight of her.
“Anyone else awake and alive?” I asked while scanning the area.
“Yes, Mark is sleeping over there,” He pointed pass a large chunk of broken desks. “Could you go wake him up?” He asked.
“Okay,” I replied. “Does he sleep heavily? I just wanna know if it would be hard to wake him up.” I said.
“I dunno.” He replied, shrugging.
I walked past a giant pile of broken chairs trying not to cry at the sight of my dead Catalyst friends. I saw Mark laying on the ground. His forehead and legs were wrapped in cloth and his ear was bleeding. His light brown hair looked crimson due to the mixture of blood and soot.
“Mark, get up. I said as I shook him.
“Huh, ahh! I wake up and there’s a girl in my face.” He said as he got up and brushed himself off. “I am so glad I wore my contacts today.” He sighed.
“Stop playing around and help me look for more survivors. I already found Dawn.” I replied sternly.
I turned around and headed over to what used to be the front of the room. I saw the dead body of Minister Eves and blinked away tears. I made my way through the rubble looking at the remains of my friends. Jimmy, Timothy, Aurora, Janet, Hannah, James, Hunter, Kilee, Riece, Nickolas and Elizabeth are just a few of the dead. I heard a cough and turned my head to a pile of rubble where I saw a face that was bleeding all over.
“Mark! I found John! He’s stuck in debris!” I yelled.
“Hold on let me get Naomi to Shepard!” He replied. I started digging away broken chairs and wood. My fingers got splinters and bruises but, I didn’t care. I grimaced in pain and kept on digging, pulling away debris and placing it behind me, careful to avoid the bodies. Mark came over and started helping and in no time we got John out. I tried to carry the sixteen-year-old but, he was simply too big and I too weak. Mark took him from me.
“I’ve had more rest than you.” He said, while dragging John towards Shepard who had a struggling Naomi in his hands.
“I told you i'm fiiine! Get your gritty boy hands off of me! I want to help Sam!” She shouted. Poor Shepard was struggling to put some kind of herbal stuff on the gashes on her shoulder. I walked over to them. Little Dawn was sleeping.
“Shepard just let me take her she could help me anyway, Mark and I found John and he’s pretty bad.” I explained.
“Yeah, listen to her I could help find people who aren't dead!” Naomi retorted.
“Fine but, try not to get any debris in your wounds.” Shepard warned.
“Okay, I will Mom!” She said snorting. She got up and walked over to me. “Who’s not here?” She asked.
“Umm, Peter, Evelyn, Selia, George, Donald, Joseph and Caleb. I think.” I answered unsure of myself.
“Okay. I dunno any of them but, i’ll look.” she replied with a shrug. She motioned for me to follow her and we searched another pile.
“Do you remember if anyone was sitting here when the ceiling fell?” I asked while pulling out a broken chair.
“It’s kind of hard when no one acknowledges you and you’re left to be an outcast.” She replied. Ouch that stung. It is true that not many people talk to Naomi but, I didn’t know it was that bad. I was about to respond when I heard coughing behind me. I whipped my head around my hair slapping my face.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
“Yes!” She exclaimed turning around and digging in the debris behind us. I helped and we soon saw a face with scruffy black hair. We continued and soon he was out.
“Nope,” Naomi said turning around and starting to walk away. “I am not helping him!” She marched off leaving me to deal with the boy. Well, this is great.
I felt his shoulders for wounds, counting two gashes on each side. His head was bleeding and needed medical attention or he would die of blood loss.
“Mark? I need your help!” I called.
“Okay, i’m coming!” He responded. I heard footsteps coming closer and I started pulling the wounded boy’s feet out from under some more debris.
“You found Peter!” Mark exclaimed. He bent over and picked up Peter’s waist starting to gently drag him through the destroyed room.

The idea sounds good, it's just… so much confusion

Yeah, that's why I scraped it and it has no name.

[Warning: the following paragraph is from a story I began when I was eleven. Reading may cause cringing, blushing, secondhand embarrassment, and possibly migraines at the low quality of the content. Proceed at your own risk.]

Lizzie was bored. Bored to death, to be exact. It was another day of school, first period, Geography, 9:20 am. She still had 40 minutes left of the most boring hour of the day. She felt her concentration slip away. After doodling on her desk until it was covered in black rainclouds from top to bottom, she decided to daydream. If there was one thing Lizzie enjoyed doing, it was daydreaming. About faraway, magical places, mostly. She never read books on the real world if she could help it. After all, who would want to be reminded of a stupid world they already lived in? She hated boring old London. It was always raining, always the same grey uniform, always the same cold streets. She twiddled with her reddish-blondish hair and daydreamed about flying off to another country when suddenly it happened. A gray mist was appearing, swirling around her vision, coming closer. She screamed, and her surroundings became as dark as her closet at midnight. Lizzie couldn't tell if the silence was deafening or if the black was too bright to perceive it. Her body hit the ground with a loud thump that rattled her bones. Where was she and what had happened to her?

Where indeed? [facepalm]
"if the silence was deafening or if the black was too bright to perceive it" - read: eleven-year-old me thinking she was profound because she wrote something so nonsensical even she herself couldn't understand it.
I think the simile just adds insult to injury. "as dark as her closet at midnight"? It hurts. This should be framed on my wall for every time I start to get arrogant about my "writing skills".