Disclaimer: I do not own any Friday the 13th characters or the legend of Jason Voorhees! Though I wish I did.

I can't even remember how I got into this. I think it had something to do with my gorgeous lady trousers and my fabulous way of telling people the dead truth. Well, it doesn't matter right now, cause I'm running for my life down a huge hill, just waiting for my silent foe to catch up. Let's see if I can't start from the beginning.

…

It was the middle of May. I was in my grade ten year and we were driving in a large bus down a lovely dirt road. We were going on a week long fieldtrip to a fantastic camp called Camp Crystal Lake. I thought it sounded pleasant and I have no idea why all the other kids were so freaked out.

I think now would be a great time to insert that I had ever watched any horror movies in my life and Alien doesn't count, so I was a very deprived child. Hence, here we were, propelling through the dust of the road on our way to the camp.

"I don't get it. Why is everyone freaking out? It's just a camp trip right?"

"NO!"

I jumped a bit in my seat and turned around. There was a rather frightening boy right up in my grill. I remember this kid. He's the crazy one who always makes strange "world ending" prophesies. Why did they even allow him on this trip? He might sacrifice one of the fuzzy animals to appease a glass window or something. Once again, he's crazy.

"It's not just a camp trip. It's our doom. OUR DEATH! This camp ain't not just some pretty place with mooses and squirrels and flying monkeys, no, it's a KILLER CAMP! A KILLER CAMP! IT'LL EAT YOU ALIVE!"

He started flailing around wildly and I nearly missed a couple of would be lethal blows to the head from his leg. It was around the time he started to strip at the front of the bus that they dragged him to the back and pulled out a tranquilizer dart and a long, thin pipe. Hmm.

"NO! HE'LL KILL YOU ALL! HE'LL THROW YOU OFF OF CLIFFS AND BEAT YOU WITH A TREE BRANCH! CAMP OF DOOM! CAMP OF DEATH! DOOM! DEATH! Death! Doom! Cliffs! Monkeys! Mooses! no!"

I guess they got him with the dart. We all stared in silence at each other and wondered the same exact thing. What the heck just happened?

…

After that little outburst from psycho boy, whose name I now know to be Alan Pork, everyone usually just calls him Death Piggy, the bus was back to the chaotic noise it was before. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Here's what I saw. My strawberry blond hair was hanging down around my shoulders and my navy blue eyes were staring right back at me. Freckles peppered the lower half of my face right beneath my eyes while the upper part was absolutely clear of blemish. I looked just like my Grandma. She was from Ireland. I always wished I had had the chance to meet her before she died. She sounded like an awesome person whenever my mother told me about her. I was pulled from my deep thought montage when I heard a familiar voice beside me.

"Hello my love child. How are you this finely fine afternoon?"

I turned to see my annoying best friend, Katy Chef, staring at my with her giganto brown eyes and her sleek black hair.

"Oh my darling! I thought I was a goner without you by my side, what with that frightening prophecy from Death Piggy! WHERE WERE YOU!"

"Oh, sweety pumpkin pie, I had no idea you were so frightened! If I had, I would have come to your rescue sooner and we would have jumped out the window together, just you and I. We would find ourselves a set of donkey and ride them off into the dawn of the approaching day!"

We giggled manically, bouncing up and down in our seats. No matter how much I find Katy annoying, I love her all the same. She, like, gets me you know? No matter how I'm feeling, she always gets me out of my turtle shell. Teehee, turtles.

"Katy, sweet cake, I have a question."

"Ask away darling love hamper."

"Why, in all of heaven's graceness, are people so afraid to come to this camp? I mean, it's not like if anything goes wrong we can't just hop on the bus and come home, right?"

She looked at me with a stare of pity.

"Oh you poor, nectarous child. Haven't you ever heard the story of Jason Voorhees? Well, let me tell you. There's a legend around here. A killer buried, but not dead. A curse on Crystal Lake, a death curse. Jason Voorhees' curse. They say he died as a boy, but he keeps coming back. Few have seen him and lived. Some have even tried to stop him... No one can..."

I stared at her in a moment of disbelief. That was it? That's what's been getting all the students so worked up? That's what sent Pork into a psychotic breakdown? A GHOST STORY!

"Yes well, that's all very good and spooky but I don't see how some sort of urban legend can send every student into such a tizzy!"

She laughed at this.

"Tizzy? Oh I love your vocabulary, darling, but it is not just an urban legend, it is real. REAL I TELL YOU!"

Katy's screaming was cut off immediately by one of our teachers coming up to the front of the bus with a clipboard and a pen in his hand. It was Mr. Pearson, our rather, out there, science teacher.

"All right everyone, we're doing role call now so I want you all to listen and listen good! Okay?"

We all nodded our heads and waited for him to begin.

"John Alk."

"HERE"

Polly Azure."

"YES!"

Joan Barlon."

"Over here Mr. Pearson."

Oh how I hate Joan Barlon. She is so annoying. She's the one who is constantly telling us what to do and what not to do, expecting us to be mature and stiff and exactly like HER! Grr, she really gets my goat, you know? I was once again knocked from my thinking when Mr. Pearson got to my name.

"Peppermint O'Sullivan."

"Hmm, what? Oh…YES! I'M RIGHT OVER HERE! SEE? I'M WAVING MY HAND"

"Yes, I think we all see you Peppermint."

"SHUT UP BARLON! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO CALL ME PEPPERMINT."

"All right girls, calm down, It looks like we're here."

We all stared out our windows at the forested areas that surrounded us. It was gorgeous; I didn't know how anyone could be afraid of this place. I couldn't wait to get to my cabin with Katy. This was going to be the best fieldtrip in the history of fieldtrips.

Boy was I wrong.