Prologue

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Little towns are all over America.

Some of full of happy families; some are full of unhappy ones. On Friday June 13th, 1935, Avery Christy, thirty, fulfilled a dream.

He had had built a summer camp for teenagers to enjoy during the hot June summer. Twenty years' earlier, on 1915, the war was going on.

And, after his parents battled starvation, Avery knew what it meant to survive. Avery had short, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and was medium-built.

His parents, Ronald and Margaret Christy, (both forty), were the owners of Camp Crystal Lake. It was a wonderful experience to enjoy during their childhood, too.

"Go to Camp Crystal and have fun, Avery", Ronald Christy smiled at his son. By nineteen twenty-five, Avery swam in the freezing lake.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened; nothing.

And he made friends along the way.


By nineteen twenty-eight, a fire destroyed the camp. It was as if an act of God had ruined it; it was bad luck; it was the pick of the straw that evil worked itself towards Camp Crystal Lake; it was a sense of horror that wasn't yet known-yet.

And for Avery that was what happened.

***

Avery made sure that Camp Crystal Lake was back to its best. By nineteen thirty-five, he had spent over twenty thousand dollars on fixing up the camp: the archery range; the canoes that were in the deep, clear blue water; the axes, knifes, spears, and so on that were on the brown walls of the barn; the yellow curtains that covered the cabin windows; the faulty areas outside that needed to be done by hammering with nails;  the restrooms that had toilets-and so on. The idea that Camp Crystal Lake would be the best camp in America hadn't bothered him. His parents were working for their retirement in the next decade, and left him to do all of the work himself; his ideas were good as the new group of campers arrived for a week at camp. Avery smiled, then greeted them as they got off their buses.


"Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake", he said.

Twelve campers arrived.

And they laughed, and giggled, and grabbed their suitcases.

And headed to their own cabins, and unpacked.

***

Pamela Sue Martin, six, was a poor girl. Her parents had to save up to go to Camp Crystal Lake; her life was full of disappointment after another.

She didn't like the water.

She liked the woods.

It was like a calling to her.

She wore a red dress, and black shoes on her small feet. Her blonde hair was wavy; her blue eyes gazed at the sun.

"How are you today, Pamela?", Avery asked.

"I'm fine", she answered.

"The woods are out of bounds because of the wildlife", he said.

"I love the woods".

"I do, too. But you know the rules".

"Yes, I do".

And she begun to sigh, and waited for lunch to arrive.

***

Milly James stared at the glistening water of Camp Crystal Lake. She swam near the shore. The weather was °89.

As she passed the shore, she thought that she saw something. Pamela grinned at her. "Look out!", she yelled.

Milly nodded, and headed back to camp.

***

"What's the matter, Pamela? I was swimming...", Milly asked.

"You were going to drown", Pamela answered.

"I can swim".

"It was just a precaution".

"Well, I am glad you thought of me".

And Pamela nodded.

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