His Girl - Jason Voorhees x Reader {Rewrite}

✿Chapter 1: Sorrowful Scene✿

A ringing sound echoed around your brain, your sleepy thoughts dismissing it immediately. But the sound was persistent, repeating it's annoying noise and screaming in your face like an angry adult. Eventually you rolled over and pressed the off button on your alarm; a little tired still. You didn't like school, but not because of the reasons other people disliked it. You hated mixing with the teens - the shallow, self-centred and self-obsessed kids. And some of them even lived with you in this children's home. This home was your own personal hell.

"Morning (Y/n)! It's a beautiful day today, time to get up~" A blonde-haired woman entered the room and pulled open the curtains, giving you a beaming smile.

Her name was Anna and she helped run the children's home - her lighthearted personality and warm blue orbs cheering anyone up. She was in her mid thirties, but she was sweeter than sugar in every way possible. You wondered why she wanted to help teens and kids, considering she already had a family of her own. But Anna's response was always the same; she loved all the children in the children's home and wanted them to feel special. You appreciated her attitude, however it didn't really work for you.

"Morning, Anna." You said politely, stifling a yawn as you swung your legs to the side of the bed and sat up.

"How'd you sleep, hun?" She ruffled your hair and you smiled, although the smile was a little on the fake side.

"Alright. How did you sleep?" You asked in return, stumbling over to your wardrobe.

"Slept like a newborn baby! Now, would you mind waking up Marissa and Will? It would really help out." Anna gave you the puppy eyes and you sighed, managing another smile.

"Sure." You agreed softly.

"Thanks a bunch! I need to get the little ones up and ready for school. See you at breakfast." She waved before leaving your room, humming to herself happily.

You brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face and began looking for an outfit, wondering what to wear. You weren't one of those flashy girls, but you didn't want to get teased for your outfit later. Rocking through your clothes, you decided on a lime-green hoodie, a pink shirt and denim jeans; slipping on some plain trainers afterwards. There. Now you blended into the background. It was better than being in the spotlight of spite. You grabbed your backpack and left your room, knocking on Marissa's door first.

"Fuck off and let me sleep." A female voice groaned out, her tone making you flinch.

"Anna told me to get you up. It's almost eight." You quickly explained your actions - not wanting the blame.

"Figures. You're such a doormat (Y/n)! Go away!" Marissa huffed; not even opening the door as she argued from her bed.

"Fine." You gave up in defeat and decided to go wake up Will, hoping Anna wouldn't be mad.

"Will? It's (Y/n), time to get up." You awkwardly called, rapping your knuckle against his door.

"Actually it's not a set time. School starts in precisely fifty minutes, and technically I'm already up." Will's stuck-up attitude started to show and you sighed, pushing open his door.

"Well Anna wants you downstairs for breakfast." You replied.

"I've already eaten. Did you know that it's best to eat as soon as you wake up? Within sixty minutes? It prevents a blood sugar crash and raises your energy level right away." He smartly recited, pushing his glasses back.

"I...see. Did you sleep well?" You tried to make conversation and he put down his pen, spinning his chair around to face you.

"What a clever way to start a conversation. I mean really, how long did it take you to come up with that genius line?" Will questioned as his tongue grew sarcastic - making you flush.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"You know you're never going to get anywhere if you can't think for yourself. Maybe this is why you're not a straight A student, like me." He cut you off in annoyance, standing up and moving past you.

Your cheeks burnt with embarrassment, his haughty manner hurting your confidence and making you feel a bit...small. Following Will downstairs, you saw different kids sitting at the tables - the teens and kids separated. You went to leave right away, but one of the other workers at the children's home grasped your shoulder. This was Lynda, a brunette who had dip-dyed her hair scarlet at the ends. Her dark eyes gazed into yours with raised eyebrows - acting stern whilst you grew shy.

"You know the rules, (Y/n). You have to eat breakfast with the others." She spoke in a crisp manner, her eyes fixated on yours with serious intent.

"But I don't want to. Besides, I'm not even hungry. Please let me go early." You lied - not wanting to be around people.

"Sorry, no can do. Come on, go sit by Ashlee." Lynda shook her head and pointed to the goth girl; the same girl who was chatting to a disgruntled Marissa.

"Fine." You mumbled.

Moving into the direction of the girls, you waited until Lynda was distracted by another kid before turning on your heel and discreetly leaving. Shutting the door behind you, you clutched the strap of your backpack and started the walk to school - pleased with how you skipped breakfast. At least now you didn't have to get picked on. What was it with people? Why is it...Why is it that whenever someone is different, they get victimised and teased? What was the reason? Because you didn't feel like drinking and doing drugs and partying? They were terrible reasons.

You arrived at school slightly early, but that didn't bother you. Instead, you went into your classroom and took out your sketchbook - the sketchbook being an outlet for you. Your mother had gifted it to you when she put you into care. You didn't know your parents, but one of the older carers told you that your mother had left the sketchbook with you at the door. It wasn't much to go on, but at least the book had her signature on the last page. She'd written the words I love you on it too, those three words cheering you up every time you saw them.

You loved drawing; it took you away from your dismal and depressing daily life. You started to draw a girl in despair - half of her hair covering her face with tears flooding her cheeks. No colouring pencils were needed, you only ever did colourless sketches. Because using colour just felt fake. The school bell suddenly screamed for everyone's attention, the rest of the students trickling in and taking their seats. You weren't that smart when it came to tests and studying, you preferred to daydream and stare out of the window if you were being totally honest.

"(Y/n)! This is going to be on the test, so please pay attention!" Your teacher snapped, causing you to jump.

"Sorry sir." You murmured unhappily, your cheeks flushing pink when the students around you snickered.

"Bet she was daydreaming about friends."
"Or maybe parents."
"She lives in that children's home, right?"

"Quiet! All of you." The teacher addressed the entire class's whispers and continued teaching; the student's falling silent again.

Your cheeks were bright pink as you struggled to pay attention, feeling judged and not wanted whilst a few of the teens passed you nasty little notes and threw you spiteful smirks. This happened daily, so of course you didn't react to them. But it didn't stop you from feeling gloomy. Everyday your class did this. You had to constantly remind yourself that it wasn't personal - they were just miserable people who dealt with other shit. They needed to make someone even more miserable than they were, so they could feel a little bit better. You got called a variety of names all the time - you weren't even surprised at this point.

So when school finally finished you snatched up your backpack and hurriedly left the room; ignoring the random remarks tossed your way. This was how it always was - picked on at school and picked on at home. If you could even call the children's home your home. You often thought about running away, but instead decided to stick it out until you were eighteen. Then you could live your own life, away from these lowlives and bullies.