The moon's glow was in the lake. For awhile, the group of campers were eager to listen to the songs, and stories from ages ago; stories of the time in which Jason Voorhees, an eleven year old boy, drowned in the cold lake back in 1957. Barry Jones, and Claudette Hayes, were spending a lot of time together. The hot, June night was sending the campers mad. Claudette smiled at Jim Thorne, a ten year old boy. 'Take the guitar, please', she said. Jim nodded. The song was 'Hang your head, Tom Dooley...Hang your head'. Claudette headed to the old, nineteen thirties era barn. Barry and his girlfriend, wore the same yellow colored CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE T-shirts; the same ones from last June, in the hot summer. The idea that death was around them, swirled and swirled in the darkness. Bright lights illuminated the camp; the cabins were closed, and they served as the place for the campers to sleep in. The barn door opened, and they went inside.
***
'Does Mary Ellen kiss like I do?', Claudette asked Barry.
'How do I know? That was in '56. And she went back to Idaho', Barry answered. She seemed hurt at the news; she sighed. On the ground, near the brown ladder that led to the attic, was a rug. All kinds of tools were on the spidery walls. Suddenly, as they kissed with passion, the killer headed inside. Then upstairs. Barry kissed Claudette. She turned around; she uttered: 'Someone's there, Barry'. Barry fumbled with the T-shirt with his right hand; he stammered: 'We weren't...'. The knife came downward; Claudette screamed, as her boyfriend's body fell onto the bales of hay. She ran to the bales in horror, and yelled: 'NO! NO! NO!'. But it was too late. The killer raised the knife, and her screams ended in terror.
The nightmare of Camp Crystal Lake had started.
***
Page 1.