Well... I suppose I'll let it speak for itself! Although it IS similar to "Dear Camp Crystal Lake", just so you keep that in mind, it's just written differently because Jason's mind is more like a kid's whereas Sabrina's developed normally. I love Jason thinking like a kid still, even though he's now... what, 21 writing this? Yeah, 21.

Hope you enjoy!


Dear Journal...


Believe it or not, Camp Crystal Lake can get a little boring after a while. There isn't anybody to talk to but Mommy. And she says I'm getting to be a bit too old to call her that, she says I ought to start calling her "Mother" now. I don't know if I'm ready for that change, maybe I am.

So, since I got bored, I asked Mommy... Mother... what I should do to keep myself entertained. She told me I should write. I'm not good at reading or writing, but maybe trying again would be interesting. I told her I didn't know what I should write about. So she gave me a sentence:

"What I remember is..."

And what I remember most about when I was younger... besides Mother, who is with me all the time... is that one counselor that year, the year I died for the first time. I was eleven, and she was older than me. I remember a lot about her, so I guess maybe I should write this as more of a letter to her? I guess I'll try that, so here goes nothing.


Dear Sabrina,


What I remember is... almost everything, I guess, about you. I remember that your hair is black, and that your eyes are green. And I remember that whenever you weren't wearing your Camp Crystal Lake shirt, and you were wearing your own shirts... there was this white one without sleeves, with the pink and blue and green butterflies... I really liked that one, you looked pretty in it.

I remember the first time I met you, when I just got there. They were all hurting me... but you made them stop. You took the rocks from them and made them leave... you did that for me. I couldn't do that by myself, and nobody ever did it for me before. I was really thankful for that.

I remember how you used to just... hold me. When I was sad or angry, and you made me tell you what was the matter. Sometimes it was because another kid had made fun of me again, or somebody said something mean about you or Mother. I would start crying, and you would put your arms around me, and hold me, till I felt better.

I remember how good those hugs felt, just us, friends, nobody to tell us we couldn't hug. I would press my face against your shoulder, and I remember liking the way you smelled. You didn't smell like perfume or hairspray, like the other counselors who were girls. You just smelled like... skin. It was the scent of just you, the way you were, nothing added on; Mother calls it the perfume of purity.

What I remember is how you helped me, how patient you were. If I didn't understand something, you explained it to me - sometimes more than once. You repeated things if I still didn't get it. You helped me so I could understand things. I remember we were up really late, and you were almost asleep, and you asked me again what five times twelve was. And I said fifty-four, and I didn't think I was right. And you screamed and hugged me, and you were so proud of me.

I remember... being scared. I was cold and heavy and wet, and I couldn't breathe. I tried to move, but it was so hard. It felt like something was attached to me, dragging me down. I heard a splash and I saw you trying to reach me. I saw your face, you were crying and yelling and you looked really upset. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again it was all blurry. I could still see you, and I tried to move my hand toward yours, and that's all I remember before I couldn't see anymore.

I remember waking up, and you weren't there. And I was still in the water, but I could breathe... and I wasn't heavy anymore. But I was still cold, really cold. I wanted a hug from you, because you were always warm, but I didn't see you.

I remember wondering why you left. Did I do something? I'm sorry I couldn't get to you and take your hand...

But... do you know what I remember most? How you loved me the exact same way that Mother did. You were never mean to me, and I remember how I loved you too... I was always happy just to see you.

I remember a lot of things about you... but there's one thing I know I'll never forget. And that's how much I miss you.


Love,

Jason Voorhees


Your Jason wants you back.


Thanks for reading! Reviews are the highest form of love and they make me super duper happy. (Also, next chappie of "The Ties They Cannot Sever" is coming soon! Working on it!)

Bye bye! ^^