I Ate the Cookie

I'm at the beach with my aunts and uncles and grandparents. We dont see eachother but twice a year. Anyway, my aunt wont allow my cousins to watch this certain show on Cartoon Network. Anyway, I tried to change the channel and it went to snow screen and the whole TV wont work. My other cousin (a lot older) made a joke about me breaking the TV. I joked back saying "I didn't break it!" We were both laughing. He continued saying "you broke it!" and I joked back saying "Jesus broke it." My aunt (mother of my cousins and in the room at the time) said "What did you say!?" I said that i said "Jesus broke it." and she got incredibly mad at me about not joking about that and everything, and made me feel worse then i already did because of my dad (me and him got into a huge fight last week and haven't spoken since.) I'm thirteen. What do i do about this?! Please helps, thanks :)

OK... i really want to write a novel, and this is just the begining, but if you could look at it and tell me what you think it would mean the world to me. The book is about a young woman living in a southern town. She finds out her aunt is dying and moves to philly to be with her. There she falls in love and meets these weird people that she befriends. What do you think of the story line, and the beginging of the book? Also, I'm calling the novel "A Dixie Girl"

From the outside looking in, this was an idealistic southern town. Everyone has imagined it before. The bakers wife bakes pecan pie for everyone. The town holds picnics every available chance. The grocer gives the kids free icecream on Fridays.

But, on the inside, the cracks show. It’s like a botched handy’man job. From a couple feet away, it looks fine, but on closer look, you can see a little bit of a crack shining through. Same in this town. Mr. Lancaster seemed like the most normal man you could imagine, but no ever talked about Mrs. Lancaster. No one talked about itwhen she wasn’t, to put this nicely, certifiably insane. No one talked about how one day, Mrs. Lancaster... snapped, like a twig. No one ever talked about her. Mrs. Lancaster was one of those touchy subjects, You just don’t talk about it. One of those problems, where not talking about it would make it go away.

Mrs. Lancaster was only one crack in the botched job, however. There are plenty of other taboo subjects, like how the baker’s children look suspiciously like the mayor. Everyone thought that… that.. might be the case, but it was SO not perfect, you just DID NOT speak about it. God forbid, you actually say SOMETHING that jeprodized the perfect southern town, with its old diners, fat and sweet ladies, and the everyone-knows-everyone disposition. The small cracks that showed through were covered with glue and duct tape, so you couldn’t see through. Everyone was completely fine with living the lie. How could you possibly not want to live in this PERFECT town, with these PERFECTLY normal people. Well, almost perfect.

The town had its Hush-hush topics, but, who doesn’t. This town was just slightly, better, at covering up their secrets than most. And, still, to this day, the truth about what REALLY happened to Mrs. Lancaster, and who REALLY was the father of the baker’s children remained a mystery, and it will remain that way.

So this town was idealistic. The southern town dream. Everything was perfect, to a certain extent. Who wouldn’t want to live HERE?!

One of those people includes me.