Chapter Two

It was as if something was wrong with the town of Crystal Lake. It was the bad things that happened. Earl Thomas's van from 1948 was trashed for no apparent reason; Marie Clements 1955 Ford had died near the campgrounds. And so on. And on. And on. And on.

The Sheriff, Earl Tierney, had been born in the town back in 1910. He had seen a lot of problems when he turned nineteen in 1929, during the Wall Street crash. And, a year later, in 1930, the Great Depression happened, sending every American family to be bankrupt, and ruin. The house which was owned by Pamela Sue Voorhees was all but forgotten. She was the cook at the time the Christy's arrived. And the darkness arrived, the horror became a vivid memory as time passed.

***

Jack Burrell, nineteen, was smoking dope. He glanced at the 1967 year old van; he shivered in the hot, June sun. 'I hope you're not scared of the forest', he told Marcie Cunningham, his eighteen year old girlfriend. They were going to Camp Crystal Lake; they had decided to go there because it was cheaper, and no one learned what happened before, or since. Then there was Ned Rubenstein, the Jewish prankster. The jazz loving eighteen year old friend of Jack's, was known to brighten the days. His eyes were sparking with mischief; his face became alerted to the inevitable problems that all teenagers went to as a rite of passage. 'It's a place where bad things happened; a lot of bad things. Hell, there was a time Steve Christy's old man failed you know on the payments in '73'.

'1973'.

'Yeah, a lot of bad shit happened'.

'Trust you to dredge up all kinds of stuff', Marcie said.

'There! See!', Marcie said.

She waited until the road was calmer, before the darkness consumed them.

Page 2.