her camp crystal lake killer (Jason Voorhees x y/n)

FOUR

But my eyes are heavy, and i find I can't fight them anymore

I was cold. Too cold as I slid against the  wall, he must have forgotten to pay the bills again. Because the only form of electricity we had was from a glass lamp at the corner of the room. Reily swayed, a cold bottle of beer clenched around his hand. Eyes barely open in slits.

"Turn that music off." He shouted, hitting the beer off the wall. There was no music. There was not a sound that I could hear. I doubted he heard the beating of my heart just like I did through my ears. Shattering the glass bottle against the wall, scattering the shardes against the ground. Riley's head looked over to me. Scowl deepened on his face. "Clean it up." He slurred.

I whimpered, scampering up to grab the Broom. Tonight just had to be one of his worst nights yet. Serena wasn't here to take most of the blunt. Not that I would wish it on anyone, but with two people here, it's much easier to handle him. I had wondered if this was simply some form of sick – sick joke the world was playing on me. Mom and dad go missing, and I'm left with a cousin who couldn't give a shit about anything less than when he can have another hit of drugs in his system.

His mother used to handle him with ease, but even now. Tonight, I fear he is too far gone to be reigned in by her.My hands shake as I pick the bigger pieces up.

I wince, his silhouette coming closer to me, adding to my pile of nerves. dropping the largest shard to the floor as blood pools from the pad of my point finger. Without giving it much thought, I bring the wound to my lip, licking it clean. I just wished I didn't have to live my life in fear like this.

"Bitch." He gritted, slamming his food against my rip. Pushing air out of my lungs as I fell back hitting the wall. Glass dipping onto my back, breaking more skin. "I told you to sweep this god dam shit up, not to kiss your boo boo's better." He knelt down. Face morphed into a shadow, as the lamp shade forced any light away from the majority of his face. "Ya' ain't no baby." He sneered. "Or are ya?" He questioned. As he gripped my hair, fingernails dipped into my scalp. Squeezed each strand of (h/c) hair. "Ya' gonna piss your pants?"

I couldn't help but whimper. Knowing a verbal response would only trigger a bigger beating.

As he came closer to me, I could see it. The layer of white under his nose. The explanation I needed for his behaviour.

A soft brush to my hair brought me back. I gasped, taking my hands from my arm. There was no blood - certainly no marks. A reminder it was only a dream.

I was okay.

I was safe.

I took a big gulp of air, sitting forward as I closed my eyes. It was only a dream, a fragment of a memory I had pushed away for too long. No one could get me to talk about this, I doubted anyone ever could. Even if they paid me a thousand dollars.

Connor and Mabel know, only because they walked in on me shivering after he had put me through hell the first time. Even with them. My two closest friends, I didn't speak a word. They tried, really really did. Offered me a number of support groups to attend but of course. I denied. Bothering others with the burden I, and I alone am supposed to bare should only be my own responsibility.

But I suppose it was a reminder as to why I had to stay away from drugs. A reminder it would only be time before I could possibly end up like him. My fucked up cousin - who, unfortunately had custody over me.

I glanced around the area, hoping to find a clue as to what brought me back from my state. But it was nothing, no trace of anyone being there. But it's as if I could feel someone's heated gaze on my neck. A perk of being brought up around someone as horrifying as that.

But no one. I was alone just as I wanted. And for the first time in I don't know how long, I cried.

I cried for Jason - the little boy I didn't know.

I cried for Pamela - a mother who just wanted to get justice for her little boy.

I cried for my innocence that was wrongfully taken from me the minute I stepped into that house.

But I survived my demons, Jason died by the hands of his. And even now, people laugh. People vandalise the grounds that is his final resting place. Just like the men I'm here with. But is Mabel and Connor any better? They drank just as much, in fact more.

Then I questioned. Were they any better than Luke? Then max? Then Alex? Or even Luke's father? Who I haven't seen since we came into camp. But I wasn't complaining, that guy gave me the creeps.

But I still cared more about Mabel and Connor. Something was happening between the two. Maybe it was because of the alcohol pumping through their systems, but I saw a different side of them last night. Their was a saying I always, always abided by.

'Drink thoughts are true thoughts.' And perhaps I could be overthinking it. Or maybe I was just too afraid of losing my bestfriends that I am choosing to see things that aren't their. I was notorious for doing that.

But I couldn't help it. I cared too much.

"What are you doing out here?" Mabel questioned, ducking underneath a branch as she crouched down beside me.

I shrugged. Tilting my head back. Watching the leaves sway with the wind. "Needed to think." I softly said.

Mabel hummed. "Well I could use the quiet." She laughed. "Hangovers are the worst." I rolled my eyes at her. "I got a cure for that." I said. Her eyes widened. Glimmering with hope. My lips pulled into a grin as I leaned forward. Whispering. "It's called not drinking."

Mabel groaned, falling down on her ass. "Hey! It's fun you should try it."

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. You know I hate alcohol." Mabel rolled her eyes playfully. Maybe you're  just a goody too shoes."

I licked my lip, removing the glimmering sweat. "Jokes on you because I don't have to experience hangovers."

Both mine and mabels head snapped to the side. My breathing stilled as I heard a twig snap in half. Disturbing the peace between us both.