𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆...
𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃!
Crystal Lake, Cunningham County, New Jersey.
A mixture of the best memories and worst trauma was weighed on the shoulders of one location. It was a lot to place on the poor lake. She believes she's shed more tears tha...
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WELCOME BACK, SAM REED!
JUNE 15TH, 1984, NEW JERSEY.
Sinking into the seat- her fingers tapped the hardcover of a book.
The 36-year-old had taken a month off of her work at a children's care facility. She had moved from teaching disabled children in schools to a full-on program.
Some of her coworkers were questionable- but that comes with every career.
The woman sat in a moving taxi. Crystal Country, otherwise known as Burlington, had a nearby town, so a taxi wasn't that expensive to ask for. Sam was thrilled- since renting a car was definitely not in her current budget.
She glanced at the seat beside her. Sam's backpack was on the floor of the car, a sleeping bag and tent bag beside it, and a map on the seat.
A map of Camp Crystal Lake was sent to her in the mail- and everything was as she remembered.
LOADING MAP...
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She didn't know much of where they'd be staying. Sam assumed they may be in the old cabins or a random clearing.
Sam glanced down at her book- quietly reading it. The book was about a serial killer and victim falling in love. Strange genre... what lunatic would fall in love with a killer?
"Bettin' you is 'part of the volunteers, ya?" The man driving her asked, drumming his fingers along the wheel.
"Mhm." She hummed, hoping he got the hint that she'd rather not talk.
Lord above- he didn't.
"You heard 'bout them tales?" He chuckled, "Real camp story, there."
Oh, please, she doesn't want to know.
"Y'know a lil' ugly lookin' kid drowned, ya?" Sam tensed up when he mentioned this, her eyes widening. "His mum 'bout killed some counselors and got the place shut down. They say her lil' boy is goin' 'round killing anyone who trespasses."
"Stop talking." Sam spat, eyes searing holes into the side of his head.
She could see him raise a brow in the car mirror.
"It's f-fucking cruel to f-fantasize a little b-boy's de-death." The woman snarled as she gritted her teeth.
Swirling with anger- their talk immediately ended there. It took a clear sign from her for the man to shut the fuck up. He was so dense that if the sun didn't set before night, he would think the day never moved.
But... the talk about Pamela killing people? No, that's not possible. She was a sweet woman- nearly as sweet as her little boy.
God... how his name still hurt. She avoids even thinking about it.
Therapy's been going in loops. Sometimes, she feels like she's been at stage 1 of grief for three decades.
LOADING...
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CONGRATULATIONS USER SAM REED!
Sam couldn't read anymore. She picked at her washed-out green cropped sweater top. Crop tops weren't her thing, but high-waisted pants made them manageable. Anything to hide the pudge, really.
Gazing out the window, the woman watched as the car slowed down, and they began rumbling down a dirt road.
A group of people were standing near a large sign she recalls being dumped at on her first day.
Seems she was one of the last people here. Again- it was not much different from her first day.
God... she wasn't ready for this.
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