"You're not going."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" My dad blinked as he realized that I'd just kind of outsmarted him. He sat down at the table, sinking into his chair and rubbing his eyes. "Ah fuck, Genny..."

I grinned, wrapping my arms around him and kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy!"

He groaned, stirring the cream into his coffee. "Look, Genny." He draped one arm over the back of his chair. "If you're going up to Camp Blood, at least take your brother and Jezebel up with ya."

"Daddyyyyyyyyyy!" I whined, sitting down beside him and hitting the table with my hand. I pouted, hoping to play up the sympathy card. "You never let me do anything on my own! I'll be twenty-one in, like, two months! If I can handle drinking till I puke, I think I can handle camping out for a weekend on my own!" I crossed my arms. "Besides, Jezebel's not very intimidating, and if there is a murderer up there, Freckles is just gonna annoy him and get both of us killed."

"Jez may not look scary, but she'll fight tooth and nail for ya." My dad frowned. "And I thought I told you to stop callin' your brother Freckles. That ain't his name."

"Yeah! No more callin' me Freckles, Gen." My little brother Dustin came into the kitchen, sliding on his sock feet. He looked a lot different from me, with his short, dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and a splash of freckles on each cheek. He looked a lot like my mom except for his eyes. Me? I had my dad's brown hair (which I'd took the liberty of putting one teal streak through) and blue eyes. I still looked a lot like my mom though - everyone always told me I had the same face and spoke in the same voice - quiet during serious or sad stuff, and really, really, really loud when I was excited, happy, or caffeine high.

"What ever, Dusty." I reached over and whacked him on the head. "So you comin' to Camp Crystal Lake with me?"

He tilted his head, and was about to answer when Jezebel, our golden retriever dog, tackled him and knocked him over, licking his face. He started laughing, trying to get up and push her off. "Ha-ha-ha! W-Well, I dunno, Gen! Wh-What are we g-gonna do up there?"

I shrugged, twirling the dyed section of my hair. "I figured it'd give me some inspiration. You know I'm thinking about applying to that online art college. But this one's different - you know how most online art programs send you something and wanna see your reproduction of it?"

"Yeah." Dustin finally managed to get Jezebel off of him and had sat down in one of the chairs by the table, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. "What's different about the one you're lookin' at?"

"Well, they wanna see some original works. Like, something they didn't send to you and tell you to copy." I sat down and continued twirling my segment of aquamarine follicles. "I like nature, so I was thinking I might be able to head up to CCL and get some awesome images. Plus it'll be nice and peaceful. And hey - if the killer shows up, maybe he'll give me a cool pose I could draw!"

"I hear he wears a hockey mask over his face," Dustin commented, standing up and getting into the refrigerator. He stuck like his entire body in looking for something. "Legend says he took it from one of the kids he killed." He came back out with the family carton of orange juice, opened it, and started drinking directly from the box. "And one of the guys at school told me that nobody's ever seen his face and lived. Wouldn't it be cool if we were the first ones?"

"You're a weirdo." Once again I hit him on the head. "And would you stop that? You're getting your disgusting DNA in our juice! Other people gotta drink that besides you!"

"Dust, put the juice away," Dad grunted, taking another swig of his coffee.

"So are you coming or not?" I asked impatiently, putting my hands on my hips as I ventured over to the refrigerator door. "I gotta know 'cause we're leaving tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning?" My nine-year-old annoyance - eh-heh-heh, brother - gave me a look of utter disbelief. "That's way too short notice, girlfriend!"

"Don't call my girlfriend, boyfriend!" I gave him a noogie, pulling him toward me and letting out a laugh that was what I called just short of evil. "Soooo... you coming or am I gonna have to give you a swirlie in your sleep again?"

"Gah! Anything but that! I'll come, I'll come!" He pushed me off. "You are so lucky it's Spring Break... and that I'm hoping we run into the killer."

I raised an eyebrow. "You want to run into the guy who's killed, what, maybe fifty people?"

"I want an autograph! He's my hero! Carlos says he only kills bad people."

I sat down and leaned my cheek against my hand as my elbow rested on the table. "And bad classifies as... what, exactly?"

"People who smoke, drink, do drugs, or have premaritial sex." Dustin clapped happily. "Stick it to 'em, Camp Crystal Lake killer! Oh, and you're sooo lucky we're not teenagers. Even if the teenagers aren't bad, he still kills them anyway because they're on his land."

"So... he might kill us because we're on his land?"

Dustin was quiet for a second, then shrugged. "Heck if I know."

"Weirdo." I adjusted my tank top and played with my signature skeleton key necklace. "I hope he's there just so I can tell him you smoke pot and see what he does."

"You wouldn't!"

"Nah... I probably wouldn't. But be warned that if he tries to kill us, I will use you as a human shield."

"... You're the worst big sister ever."


I think it's because I've been watching every single movie... just finished Part 6: JASON LIVES. ^^ I was cheering for him the entire time, let me just tell you... :D

XD Anyway... thanks for reading and possibly reviewing, don't know when I'm going to update this one, haven't looked at it in a while... XD