the murder of Crystal Lake

one

This one Saturday morning, when Julian Kidd and this family moved into the neighborhood - into the house across from my parent's to be exact - was the day it all began to change.

 It was two weeks  and two days before my 16th Birthday and I remember this day as if it was yesterday. It was a bright blue day, June just started and the feeling of summer break was already there. Everybody was excited about school to finally end and so was I. Only another year and I would be done with high school, ready to leave for college and start my own life. I was walking Joy, my dog I got two years ago for Christmas, and later I had made plans with my best and only friend Carrie.

Not caring about my appearance - ripped jeans, old t-shirt and my usual messy, curly hair - I turned left to go back to my parents' house. I stopped right there in my tracks, a moving van was parked in the driveway of the house across from ours. Quickly, I closed the garden door and fled back into my room. New neighbors. Again. "Great" I thought. "Just great". 

In the past few years, we had several moving ins and just as many moving outs. None of the families stayed long. Not longer then 178 days to be exact. It couldn't be because of the house itself, in fact it was a beautiful Greek-revival mansion. With it's canopied porch and the white columns it looked similar to the  one my parent's own, though it was evidently bigger and there was a big, oak front door which looked a bit out of place. Since it hasn't been inhabited for a few months, the flowers on the front porch were growing wild and ranking its way up the old wooden window frames. 

 Throwing my things on my bed, I grabbed a grey tank top from the top drawer of my  dresser and pulled the old, washed out and now sweaty Stones shirt over my head. Well, at least that was my intention, because halfway through my head got stuck and my arms got tangled up. I cursed. About one and a half minutes later I managed to free myself and froze immediately. 

There I was, standing in front of my bedroom window in my lacy black bra, the shirt clutched to my chest and my eyes wide open in shock. A boy, just about my age or a little older was leaning on the windowsill of the neighbors' house, smirking at me. 

Being my immature little self, I stuck my tongue out and closed the shutter with a bang, but not before I got a good look on him myself. That he already saw plenty of me wasn't what I was so upset about. If I saw an attractive boy standing half naked in front of me, I'd stare as well. Not that I was extremely attractive, I was average. "Besides", my subconsciousness told me "he wasn't exactly staring at your face.."

 It was his stupid perfect ruffled hair and intimidating blue eyes and above all his damn smirk that bothered me. Stood there as if he hadn't anything better to do than watching girls change. "That's because he doesn't", I thought and then rolled my eyes. "Boys"