CHAPTER 2
It was morning in Crystal Lake.
The golden rays of the sun had just begun to peek over and paint the tops of the tall pine trees that surrounded the lake.
An old weathered dock stuck out into the middle of the water next to a rickety sign that read "Crystal Point."
A beaver poked his head out of the water, scanning the surroundings for any sign of incoming danger, and then dashed back underneath the surface, seeing the two blond women jogging down the trail near the lakeshore. Seventeen year old Trish Jarvis used to hate the idea of living out in the middle of nowhere. She had begged her mom not to whisk her away to a town out in the country, out to Crystal Lake, and take her away from her school, but it was no use. She was firmly set on the idea.
She had also hated the idea of being homeschooled, but that was her mother's idea as well. It's much safer than public school, her mother would say. You won't have any bad influences like the kids in public school.
Over the last few years, she had gotten used to the peace and quiet of the country, so she didn't complain much about it.
After all, she could wake up in the morning to the sounds of birds chirping in the trees, instead of brakes screeching, and cars honking, and pedestrians hollering for a taxi, and since they moved out to the country and her mother began homeschooling them, she did have so much more time to spend with her family. They were able to go on an early morning or even a late night jog around the lake without worrying about getting mugged.
It was almost a picturesque scene: the shimmering lake could be seen through the tall trees from the porch of their two story cabin and they had the quiet woods virtually to themselves, except for a mostly vacant rental home on the opposite side of the heavily wooded clearing. Fallen pine boughs and dead leaves littered the ground, and a twin set of mailboxes, one unused and rusted shut, marked the road that led into town.
She had grown fond of it over the years; besides, you could do anything you wanted out in the country.
And yet, her mother still worried. Constantly worried.
About every little thing. It was why they were out here in the middle of nowhere.
"Don't stay out too late. don't go into the woods alone, don't wear short skirts, don't talk to strangers..." she would say. What could happen out in the middle of the woods? There weren't any bears in this part of the country, and they didn't have anybody living around them. Their closest neighbor was several miles up the narrow, dirt road leading into town. The only company they ever had was when a family would occasionally occupy the rental home next to them, and they had never had any trouble with them. They were the only people Trish had ever actually talked to in this town.
God, I'm wasting my life in Crystal Lake, she thought.
She was only seventeen, but she would be graduating soon. After this summer, she would be in her last year of homeschool. What was she going to do with her life? Maybe she could go off to college somewhere or get a job in another town and rent an apartment for cheap. Maybe get a job as a waitress, or a bank teller and save up enough money to take some classes, maybe something easy like accounting, or being a secretary. Then, once she had saved enough money, she could go to something like nursing school and have a career for herself.
She enjoyed the thought of getting to help people, and after all, her mother had worked as a nurse in the city for a short time.
She knew one thing for sure. She didn't want to do it in Crystal Lake.
It was nice and all, and quiet, sure, but she had to get away. There was nobody she really connected to in this town. All of her friends were back home in the city. At this point, it was more about trying to make a living, and getting away from this place and her family but it seemed so horrible to think about things like that. It was just that her family was just starting to wear on her. She saw them every day. All day.
She loved them, of course, but my God, twenty-four hours a day with your family could really start to take a toll on you. You couldn't be cooped up with your family for too long or you start to go crazy. She never talked to anyone else except for them, except maybe the clerk at the grocery store or the hairdresser, sometimes, and when a family would rent the house next door, she would almost knock their door down trying to meet them.
Maybe she was just getting cabin fever. Maybe she was just lonely. Maybe she just needed a break, or a change of scene. She didn't know for sure, but the Crystal Lake scene was getting old.
Her dad would have loved it out in the country, she thought as they kept jogging.
He would have loved the fresh air and the atmosphere.
They separated seven years ago. Two years before they left for Crystal Lake.
Trish always thought that it hurt her and her younger brother Tommy more than it hurt her mother. Their dad had always been there for them to get them out of any tough situations, and taught them how to be adults, and how to apply for jobs, and how to fix cars and anything else they needed to know how to do. Even though her dad had fallen out of love with her mom, Trish still loved him more than anyone in the world. She had been the apple of her father's eye, and she had known he was seeing someone else before her mom knew. It was so obvious in the way he would stay in his room for hours, or by the telltale forced smiles and kisses or staying out all night at the office until three A.M in the morning.
He had always bought her anything she wanted and let her do anything she wanted, and her mother was always the strict one. Always the one to say 'no.'
The one thing he wouldn't do for her was give her an explanation. What had happened? She had asked them. Why can't you guys work this out? Her mom had reminded her that you couldn't possibly ask for an explanation of why you didn't love someone. There weren't any words for that, and she had been right.
She really didn't see her father that much anymore, ever since they moved out here; she didn't really see anyone. She mostly spent her days with Tommy or with Mom. Of course, she loved them but that didn't mean she wanted to always spend every moment with them.
Her only saving grace was that she was seventeen, and that meant she could drive, but they only had one car. Her mother would reluctantly let her drive into town on occasion, but it was always just to the grocery store or the comic book store with Tommy. Still, it did allow her some freedom, but who could she visit? She didn't know anyone in this town, not even any kids from the high school. What was the use of a car without people to go see?
She was probably just being dramatic. After all, she had her whole life to escape and see the world. It had only been six years in this town. It wasn't like she'd spent her whole life here. But still, something had to give.
Trish snapped out of her thoughts and realized that her and her mother had been jogging in silence for the last quarter of a mile. She remembered that her father had called only a few days ago.
"I talked to Dad," Trish said.
"How is he?" Mrs. Jarvis asked hesitantly.
"He asked me to come out and see him,"
"Did he tell you to take a number?" Mrs. Jarvis said.
"No, but he asked about you,"
"Did he? Well, on second thought, maybe we should go out and see him," Mrs. Jarvis said. "I bet he could stand a visit. What do you think?"
Trish grinned slyly.
"I think you're just getting horny,"
Mrs. Jarvis blushed and rolled her eyes, and they went back to jogging in silence.
Come on, Mom, Trish thought. It was a joke. You don't have to get so worked up. She stared out at the shimmering lake as they kept jogging down the trail. As she squinted through the trees, she thought she could see a dark figure...in a small stand of trees on the opposite side of the lake...or maybe not. As she slowed her jogging, and squinted harder at the stand of trees in the distance, the figure vanished. God, Trish thought sheepishly. Who would be all the way out here? In Crystal Lake? It was probably nothing. Or a hunter. Or just her imagination.
Her mother was starting to wear on her, she thought. Pretty soon, she was going to start liking the isolation. But for now, she just wanted to have a little fun and meet someone new. What was so wrong with that? She was actually starting to hallucinate people in the woods.
She was becoming her mother.
Maybe it was that it was Friday the 13th tomorrow. People always said that bad things happen to you on Friday the 13th.
But, Friday the 13th was just another day out of the year, Trish thought. Just a silly superstition, right?
Trish and Mrs. Jarvis stepped through the door of their wood-frame two-story cabin to the sound of mass gunfire and digital explosions.
Mrs. Jarvis's twelve-year old son, Tommy, sat at the computer desk in the living room, a grotesque rubber mask pulled over his face, his fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard as he blasted his way through a row of enemies.
Mrs. Jarvis frowned. She would never understand why kids these days were so enraptured by video games. Tommy would sit at that desk, his eyes glued to the screen, playing computer games for hours on end.
How could a computer game be so much fun? All there was to it was to fly around in some sort of craft and blow up everything in your path. It was nothing but mindless violence.
But, still, it kept him occupied. After all, when they moved to the country, Tommy didn't have much to do, especially during the summer.
He had begged for a new computer the Christmas before, and the Christmas before that, but she didn't have the money. He also wanted a computer game, something called "Zaxxon", and she didn't have the money for that either.
He already had a computer up in his room, but he claimed that it was too old and too outdated to play the games that he wanted to play. So on Christmas morning a few months ago, she scraped up enough money and she surprised him with a brand new computer and 'Zaxxon' to go with it.
Now, she almost regretted it, considering it was all he ever did, besides make those horrid looking masks. Not that he didn't do a good job on them, but they gave her the willies, especially when he'd leave them sitting on her dresser to give her a good scare.
"Tommy, would you turn that down?" she called into the living room.
Trish chuckled to herself and walked up the staircase to change out of her sweaty clothes.
Tommy turned away from his game of Zaxxon and sighed, looking at her through the eyeholes in his mask.
"But I got 98,000!" he protested.
Mrs. Jarvis shivered as she saw the hideous features of the mask on her son's head. It looked like something from that sci-fi movie she had seen when she was a teenager, "It Came From Outer Space."
It was a grayish color, and the eyes were huge and oval-shaped.
It wasn't even his scariest mask. He had over a dozen upstairs, all ones that made her skin crawl.
But they looked good. So realistic, she often wondered how he did it. He would sit up in his room with his kit with the door closed for hours working on them.
"How many robots is that?" she asked, playing along.
"35," Tommy replied, turning back to the screen just in time to watch his player die in a pixelated explosion. YOU LOSE in big flashing letters flashed across the screen. Mrs. Jarvis crossed the front hall into the kitchen, and reached for a rag on the counter, mopping her sweaty brow.
This house was nothing like their apartment back in the city, she thought.
Their apartment was squeezed into the back corner of a huge apartment complex and from the inside, you would have thought they lived in a normal one-story house in the suburbs. It was modern and comfortable. This house looked like a flashback to the early 1900s. It was a log cabin that looked like it was designed by Lincoln himself. All of the walls were made of wooden planks, and the railings that surrounded the front and the back porch were made of sturdy wooden logs. The inside wasn't much different than the outside. The ceiling was high and pointed, and long, sturdy wooden beams stretched across from one wall to the other. The walls, too, were made of wood and the rooms were adorned with Dutch doors and ancient oil paintings and wooden countertops.
There was even an antique iron gas furnace in the dining room. Of course, it didn't work anymore. It was just a relic from the past.
She didn't mind all of the antique furniture. It made it feel cozier. The inside of their apartment in the city felt like a doctor's office waiting room, but this house felt more like a home.
"Hey, Tommy, why don't you try killing some more robots up in your room?" Mrs. Jarvis called into the living room.
"I can't. I need a bypass patch cord," Tommy said, walking into the kitchen and peeling the mask off of his face.
The mask came off to reveal the young, naive face of a preteen boy. His shaggy brown hair was disheveled by the mask, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and putting them on. Tommy sat down on a wooden barstool as Mrs. Jarvis crossed the kitchen to the sink and began pouring herself a glass of water.
"Maybe you can get one in town. Trish will drive you. And while you're there, please get a haircut," Mrs. Jarvis said.
Tommy groaned in response.
"Aw, Mom," he sighed.
Mrs. Jarvis took a sip from the glass of water and looked down at the rubber mask lying on the counter.
"That's a nice mask,"
"Do I have to get a haircut?" Tommy moaned, not even registering the compliment.
Mrs. Jarvis laughed and changed the subject.
"You're getting really terrific at making those things,"
"Thanks, I just customized it," Tommy said, admiring his work.
"Hey, where's Gordon?" she asked him, looking around for their pet golden retriever.
"He went out," Tommy replied, not looking up from his mask.
Mrs. Jarvis looked into the hall and saw the back door standing wide open.
"Oh, someone left the door open again,"
She quickly moved towards it and closed it.
"We're in the country," Tommy said.
Mrs. Jarvis walked back towards the kitchen counter, her eyes wide with uneasiness.
"What if a psycho walks in?"
She immediately remembered last night. That news report about all those kids getting killed. She had meant to tell Tommy and Trish. She had wanted to tell them to be careful for the next few weeks until it all blew over. But she didn't want to frighten them so she decided to just keep quiet.
Just as her mind came back to reality, Trish came strolling into the kitchen, freshly changed into a white blouse and a comfortable looking pair of shorts.
"He'd probably challenge him to a game of Zaxxon," Trish joked. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a pitcher of lemonade and a glass from the cupboard.
"Hey, mom, did you hear anything about the place next door?" Trish asked, pouring the lemonade into her glass.
"Uh-huh. It's been rented by some kids," Mrs. Jarvis said, looking out the window at the two-story rental house beside them.
"Great!" Trish exclaimed.
"How many?" Tommy asked.
"Six,"
"Well, it would be nice to have some company around here," Trish said, sipping her lemonade.
Finally, some people her age were renting that house. I could actually make some friends, Trish thought to herself. She had had lots of friends in the city, but now, that her mother was homeschooling her out in the middle of nowhere, it was almost impossible to meet anyone. The only kinds of people who ever rented that old house were elderly couples.
Maybe she'd meet a friend. Or even better, a boy. This might be the escape she needed.
None of them had no idea that the company they would soon receive would be more terrifying than any of them could ever imagine.
Country boy, country boy, sitting in the grass…along came a prairie dog and crawled right up his Ask me no more questions…."
The 1973 gold Chevrolet Caprice crammed with six teenagers flew down the narrow dirt road.
18-year old Sara Williams sat quietly in the backseat and watched the trees fly by her window, as she listened to the rest of her friends chant some old folk song that she had never heard before.
They had all been singing jubilantly for the past quarter of a mile, but it didn't bother her much. They all liked to cut up and have a good time, and she was used to it by now. Besides, they had a reason to be singing. The six of them had just graduated from their senior year at Pinehurst High and felt like their young lives were just beginning. They had wanted to go to the beach for their big summer trip before they started college but none of them had saved up enough money, so they all settled for a few days in the woods instead.
After all, it would be much cheaper to rent a cabin in the woods, bring some drugs and booze, spend a few bucks in gas to drive about an hour outside of their town to Crystal Lake, and just relax in the great outdoors.
Sara glanced over at her best friend, Samantha, a seventeen year old beautiful and vivacious brunette, who was singing along with the two guys sitting up front.
Sam's boyfriend, Paul, sat in the driver's seat, his trademark blue baseball cap pulled over his dark hair. Sara's boyfriend, Doug, sat in the passenger seat.
Sara had been a little hesitant when Doug first asked her if she wanted to come out into the country with him and his friends for a graduation get-together.
She'd lived in this area all her life, and had never even been in the woods. She also didn't even know some of these people. Paul and Sam had been dating for several months now, but Sara just wasn't all that close to him. The only times she had ever interacted with Paul while hanging out with Sam was when they wanted to screw around, which was usually whenever they were together.
And then there was Ted, one of Paul's friends, who had brought along his friend Jimmy, and she hardly knew them at all. But surely, they would all get to know each other a little bit and the tension would ease.
Sara stared out into the thick woods that lined the road. She had heard all sorts of horror stories, especially around this town. Stories of kids going off into the woods around Crystal Lake and never coming back again. She remembered from when she was a kid and her parents would tell her about a little boy who once drowned there, in the lake. It was a tale they would always tell her to try to make sure she didn't swim off where she couldn't reach.
It was one of those small town things; there were legends that got passed around and often got passed around so often that they became watered down versions of what actually happened.
But from what she had heard, some stuff did happen at Crystal Lake. Maybe a boy did drown. Maybe some kids did go out in the woods and get involved in a really bad accident, but Sara was sure that most of it was just talk to try and scare you.
After all, if all these old people knew how many kids around her used the woods to have sex and smoke grass, she would understand why they would make these things up.
Sara knew all too well about how small town people can be. Her parents were a prime example of small-town narrow-mindedness. They couldn't stand her being with Doug, and couldn't stand Sam. She had had so many long fights with them about it, even right before she decided to go on this trip. You shouldn't be going out in the woods for a weekend with those dope-smokers...Sara you have a future….she had heard it all before.
They were good friends. They just didn't know them like she did, and sure, they liked to party and smoke grass every now and then, but who was she to judge? Who were they to judge?
It wasn't a big deal.
They had a really good time together.
She wasn't that worried about her folks though; they'd get over it even though she probably wouldn't ever hear the end of it. She was more worried about being alone out in a cabin at Crystal Lake. But after all, she was with friends.
And, Doug told her that they would have some neighbors next door to the cabin they rented. A family with kids.
It made her feel a bit safer that they wouldn't all be completely isolated, but she couldn't shake the knot forming in her gut as she stared out at the lonely wilderness on either side of the car.
She hadn't seen a house or a store for miles.
She wasn't necessarily a city girl, by any means. But she wasn't fit for the woods either. Maybe she could smoke some grass to ease her anxiety, but she always tended to pass on it. Sara didn't really like doing any of that. Even when Sam and Paul would invite her over and offer some pot or alcohol, she always passed. It just made her so uncomfortable to feel out of control. It was part of the reason why she also hadn't had sex.
That, and her parents constantly lecturing her about it. Sara you need to save it for marriage...good girls always save it for marriage...which probably was the sole reason why she had control issues.
Sometimes she felt left out. Sam was always talking about her sexual encounters, and Sara always never had anything to say. She made it so awkward...they would all be sitting around, getting high, and hooking up while she just sat there with Doug, not knowing how to make a move and being terrified to do anything about it.
Sam had always said that it's ok to be a virgin; save it for when you are ready, but Sara still felt so self-conscious about it. Maybe it's because she really wanted to do it, but just didn't know how. She couldn't initiate. Her father's version of "the talk" consisted of awkward staring at the floor and one word sentences and Guys only want one thing...
Well, she thought, maybe this weekend she was ready. To do it with Doug. After all, they had been dating for three months and it had gotten hot and heavy at one point. This weekend may finally be the chance to do it. It was now or never, because they were graduating and would likely be going off to different schools.
As the thought of sex raced through her mind, she chewed her lip anxiously. Doug had always been understanding about the sex stuff and never pressured her, but she had also never been alone with him in a romantic way except for one other time
And now, they definitely had the place and the time to be alone. Out in the woods. At night. If they wanted to have sex, there was no better time and place to do it. What would happen if everyone was out screwing and Sara was left alone with him? What would happen then?
Just do it when it feels right, she told herself. If it's not right, then Doug would understand.
If she was just going to worry herself to death if she thought about sex, she decided to shift her mindset to the scenery flying by the car window.
Her mind began to drift away from her worries, and she began to hear bits and pieces of Jimmy and Ted's conversation behind her….
"You broke up with "BJ" Betty?" Ted asked, dumbfounded.
Both he and Jimmy were crammed in the open hatchback with the luggage.
Jimmy ran his hands anxiously through his sandy, windblown hair.
"So to speak," he said, sighing. "And would you lighten up on her? She's alright,"
Ted chuckled, adjusting his sunglasses.
"I'll say she's alright," he said, grinning. "You should have treated her right. That girl wanted to be treated right,"
"I did. I did, I treated her right," Jimmy protested indignantly. "That's what's driving me so crazy,"
Did I? Jimmy thought to himself. Maybe Ted was right. Maybe there was something he had done wrong. Why did he always have to screw it up every time a girl liked him? He'd only been dating this chick for a week and a half, and she totally blew him off. Same with the last.
Jimmy and Ted had been best friends since middle school, and to Jimmy, Ted always seemed to be the guy that got all the girls. Who could blame the girls? He was one of the coolest guys in school, but more in that "bad-boy wannabe" kind of deal. All the girls loved it.
He was alright-looking, decent head of hair, nice smile.
Jimmy never understood how he did it. But that's how it was. Ted getting the girls, Jimmy's relationships never seeming to work out, and Jimmy crying to Ted for advice.
This time, things weren't any different. Ted was the outrageous guy. The life of the party. Sometimes, larger than life turned into obnoxious in Ted's case.
Jimmy groaned in misery.
"I mean, first I would call her, and she would take my calls, and then she would have something to do, and then she wouldn't even take my calls. Can you figure that? What the fuck happened?" Jimmy exclaimed, running his hands through his hair again.
Ted shook his head.
"Here, let me put it in the old computer,"
He rubbed his hands together. Jimmy rolled his eyes.
"Come on, I'm being serious about this,"
"Hey, the computer don't lie," Ted said. "Let's see,"
Ted held up both of his hands, pretending to type on an imaginary keyboard. Jimmy let his head rest on the seat behind him, sighing with exasperation.
Ted's "computer" had been a running joke throughout their friendship, but now, Jimmy didn't find it very funny. Many times Jimmy had sat and watched Ted bring up results on the "computer" only for them to be one of two things: hurtful insults or a piece of advice that never worked out in the end.
Jimmy watched, painfully waiting to hear the results.
Ted finished "typing", and stifled a laugh. He buried his face in his hands.
"What?" Jimmy asked.
Ted glanced over at his friend with apologetic eyes, shaking his head.
"It says you're a dead fuck," he said, holding in his laughter.
"What?" Jimmy asked in disbelief. "A dead fuck?"
"A lousy lay," Ted explained. "Ya know…"
Ted held his arm out, his hand dangling suggestively.
"Oh, don't hold back, doc, just give it to me straight," Jimmy exclaimed sarcastically.
"Hey, I didn't say it, the computer did," Ted said, defensively.
"Yeah, well, there is no computer," Jimmy retorted.
"Ah, and there's no Betty either," Ted said matter-of-factly.
Jimmy sighed, defeated. There was no winning with Ted.
"So I'm a dead fuck," he said miserably.
Ted shrugged matter-of-factly.
Jimmy flopped back on the headrest and buried his face in his hands.
"God, I'm horny"
The Chevrolet Caprice pulled over to the side of the road and came to a stop.
Doug fished a map out of his back pocket and started scanning it carefully. Samantha leaned over the seat over Paul's shoulder, her eyes wide with concern.
"Where are we?"
"We're lost," Paul admitted, forcing a weak smile.
Sara looked out the window and saw that they had come to a stop right beside an old, dilapidated cemetery. A weed-choked iron gate surrounded the perimeter of the cemetery, and all of the tombstones were weathered and faded.
She felt a chill run down the length of her spine.
She'd always hated cemeteries. Ever since she was a kid. Just the fact that she was walking directly over dead bodies gave her goosebumps.
She could read the name on one of the newer gravestones.
It read: Pamela Voorhees. 1930-1979.
Why did that name sound so familiar? The last name Voorhees. She remembered Doug mentioning something about the name Voorhees when he was asking her to come to Crystal Lake with him.
It was probably nothing. Still, she felt the knot forming in her stomach again and another chill ran up her arm.
Stop spooking yourself, Sara, she told herself.
Samantha turned her head and noticed the cemetery.
"Pretty creepy," Sam said.
"Yeah…" Sara said, her voice trailing off.
"Ok…ok…I think we keep going straight for two miles, and then hang a right," Doug said, pointing at the map.
"I hope you're right," Paul said, and pulled onto the road.
Sara slowly watched the cemetery disappear from view. She couldn't take her eyes off of that one gravestone.
It looked newer than the others. They must have died within the last few years.
Voorhees…What was it about that name?
Voorhees.
Pamela Voorhees. She repeated the name in her mind, trying to remember why that name gave her such an awful feeling.
What had Doug said about the name Voorhees?
Oh well, she wasn't paying attention when he had said it, and she shouldn't be worried about it now. It was probably just another Crystal Lake legend that their parents had always talked about and always warned them about. It was part of why her folks had been so adamant about them not going up to Crystal Lake. They said something about a campground where bad things happened.
But if anything did happen. It was years ago.
All of those things were just exaggerations.
She was just letting her imagination run wild. Nothing would go wrong if they were all out there together. Sara was starting to feel like her life was just beginning. She had her best friend, her boyfriend, and they were going to enjoy a peaceful weekend in the country and nothing, and nobody, was going to stop them.
There was nothing to be afraid of.
Patti Cunningham let out an exhausted sigh.
If someone had told her before she decided to go on a weekend camping trip for some peace and relaxation, that she would end up broken down on the side of the road and forced to hitchhike in unbearable heat covered in mosquito bites from head to toe, she never would have gone in the first place.
Go to Crystal Lake, they said. Take some time off, they said. Take a vacation, they said.
They had all told her it was just what she needed. And not to blame them; they were right. With her husband running off on her and getting laid off from her job, it had been a stressful two months and finally, when she had almost reached her breaking point, her best friend Linda grabbed her by the shoulders and told her to take a vacation.
But she had no idea that her car would stall. Of course, she wanted to blame Linda. But it wasn't her fault. Nobody could have predicted that she would have had to hitchhike all the way to Crystal Lake while carrying her suitcase and knapsack in 98 degree weather.
And the worst part of it was she hadn't seen a single car since she started walking. No one lived out here. Ever since she left the town of Crystal Lake, she hadn't seen a single sign of civilization.
It was hopeless. She would be forced to walk the next ten miles to the spot by Crystal Lake that she had mapped out back home.
She looked both ways down the desolate road. There was no sign of life anywhere.
I'm fucked, she thought miserably.
She saw an old tree stump not too far from the side of the road and she tossed her stuff down and sat.
It could be worse, Patti thought to herself. She could have gotten into a wreck and been injured. She definitely didn't need to be hitchhiking down the road in the heat with a broken leg.
It'll be alright. Someone has got to come by eventually, Patti thought.
She was fortunate that she found some old "save the trees" and "peace not war" picket signs in her trunk from her tree hugger days in college. They were bright and colorful and were sure to attract a passing motorist.
She had all her things. There was food and a sleeping bag in her suitcase. She could even camp out under the stars if it came to it.
Maybe this wouldn't be such a ruined vacation after all.
Just then, her thought was confirmed when she saw the front end of a 1973 Chevy coming toward her down the country road.
She grabbed her brightest sign and sprang to her feet holding up the sign and waving her arms frantically.
It was her big chance.
Looks like it's my lucky day! On Friday the 13th weekend strangely enough, she thought.
Patti's shoulders slumped as she watched the car full of high schoolers fly right by, and she let her arms fall to her side, defeated.
You have got to be shitting me, Patti thought to herself. The one car that passes by is full of a bunch of damn kids. A bunch of spoiled teenagers. She had seen the smirk on the face of the dark haired boy wearing sunglasses in the back.
Damn kids, she thought sourly.
Just as the car began to disappear around the corner, the dark haired kid in the sunglasses leaned out of the open hatchback.
"Hey, honey, you got a sister?" He yelled out to her. He let out a guffaw of laughter. She heard the rest of the teenagers cackle with laughter.
Patti couldn't believe it. She was speechless. But then she remembered that during her protesting days in college, there were more than a few people that didn't take too kindly to them parading around with their rainbow colored signs. So her group had painted "Fuck You" on the back of the signs in black spray paint.
She knew it would come in handy.
She flipped around the sign and gave him the middle finger for good measure, but he didn't see it. The car was far down the country road.
What was this world coming to? A world where people just pay no attention to someone who needs help. A world where people drive right by a woman on the side of the road just wanting a ride. Of course, she had heard all of the horror stories about murderous hitchhikers. So she didn't blame them.
But still, there was no need to say things like that. What kind of parents would raise a child like that? That little prick needed to have the shit beaten out of him. That's what was wrong with this generation. Nobody hit their kids anymore. They were raising goddamn nightmares. She knew she was overweight, and she knew she wasn't all that attractive, but these disrespectful bastards just didn't know when to keep their mouths shut.
Was she like that when she was younger? Surely not. No, it was different in her day. She went through all of that love and peace nonsense of the sixties. Sure, she was outspoken against the establishment and the government, and had a smart mouth to people who really deserved it, but she wasn't like the kids are now. She would have never not been helpful to someone who clearly needed it.
The love and peace period of her life was a tiny blip in the distance, just like her saving grace disappearing down the country road. Now all she wanted to do was lay down and die. To hell with peace and love, she thought hopelessly. She was almost forty, stuck in a dead end job, and all alone in the middle of nowhere with no one around to bail her out.
Those rotten kids would learn. It would come back to bite them in the ass, maybe a few days from now, or maybe a few years. They were just going through their peak. But in twenty years, they'd be the ones broken down on the side of the road with no one to help them because they had all been careless and stupid.
Patti threw her hands in the air and plopped back down on the tree stump, realizing that she hadn't eaten since she left home. Her stomach was grumbling loudly.
She reached down into the side pocket of her suitcase and pulled out a ripe banana, and peeled it, biting into the soft fruit.
She was too busy munching loudly on her banana to hear the footsteps behind her. Slow and steady at first, then growing quicker and agitated.
Then, she heard the leaves crunching behind her. Light footfalls. Someone was behind her.
But Patti didn't have time to see who it was.
A hand grabbed her by the hair in a fierce talon-like grip and another hand shoved a hunting knife into the back of her neck.
She vomited up a hideous mixture of blood and banana, horrified at the sight of the bloody tip of the knife protruding from the front of her throat.
In the throes of death, Patti's right hand clenched, squeezing the banana into mush, and she felt life ebb quickly.
Jason Voorhees stood over her lifeless corpse, once again, feeling the boiling rage inside of him subside.
He stared down the road at the gold Chevy sedan becoming tiny in the distance, and he clenched his fists. He had watched them drive by and heard their laughter...young, teenage laughter. None of them deserved that happiness...they all deserved nothing short of unadulterated annihilation and pure loathing...this Friday the 13th weekend, they would all pay.
For so long he waited, waited for them to return so he could kill once again, and now, it would all be worth it. He would be doing just what his mother had wanted, to end the lives of the counselors and any other abhorrent teenagers who decided to come to his home...his hunting grounds.
He hid out in that shack in the woods, undetected by law enforcement, and anyone who did find his shack was easily dispatched. Then, he saw them...walking through the woods in scantily clad clothing, laughing, fondling and groping each other...counselors...the ones his mother had tried to kill...and anyone else having their way on his land. At his camp. In his woods. He couldn't let them get away with it. He couldn't let them get away with engaging in those filthy acts at his lake. They would all see why nobody returns to Crystal Lake, to have their way on his campgrounds.
As he watched them disappear, he felt the rage return, and it burned even more intensely than the last time, threatening to consume him and fueling him as he began his slow and steady walk back home.
It was the residents of Crystal Lake who didn't have much time left.
