Le Petite Mort- The Little Death

Note: If you're reading this simply for the Jason porn, go straight to chapter nine x

Jomo (aka Joanne Mong) sat cross-legged on the edge of the circle, staring deep into the flames of their pitiful campfire. She and her four best friends had decided to go on this camping-trip together during their summer vacation. Their other choice had been to stay home and have a huge party with booze and strip-poker every night. Everybody had been up for it except Jomo. She hated the idea of sleazing and drinking, especially with somebody like Kevin Kentwood. The whole partying plan had, naturally, been his. Kevin didn’t give a rat’s ass about consequences, which many people liked, but Jomo had always been wary of him. More so now as he had started teasing her cruelly, taking pleasure from her discomfort.

So rather than just go through with his wishes, Jomo announced they would flip a quarter to choose either her or Kevin’s vacation choice. To counter Kevin’s party plan she had suggested going on the camping trip instead. Heads would mean Kevin had won. Tails would mean a full six weeks away from their deadbeat town and their strict parents.

“You’re on, pint-size,” Kevin had drawled coolly. He was referring to the fact Jomo was a head shorter than most others. This was something he often did just to get her back up. Jomo saw his lips quirk, challenging her to react. With dignity, Jomo simply turned away. However, she was seething silently as she held up the coin for the others to see. She knew how gloating he’d be if the coin landed with Heads kissing her palm. But without further suspense Jomo flipped the quarter high into the air. Five separate breaths were drawn. The coin turned over on itself, flashed in the light, before it suddenly dropped into Jomo’s hand.

She closed her fingers over it and kissed it three times in her usual luck ritual.

“Please don’t be Heads. Kevin’s a dick, don’t give him what he wants,” she hissed. Kevin craned his head over Jomo’s fist, oblivious to Jomo’s insults. The others copied him, laughing tensely. Jomo glanced from face to face. All of them appeared to be praying silently. She could only hope that they, like her, wanted Tails.

Then, slowly, she opened her sweating palm.

Why am I so worked up over this? She thought. I’m being stupid. I need to calm down, right now.

But all the same she had squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a heavy silence punctured only by her friends breathing. They peered down at the coin. Moments later the nice guy of the group, Bobby Meyers, chuckled loudly.

“Too bad, sis, looks like Jomo’s gonna get her camping-trip after all,” he said gloatingly to Becky. Jomo opened her eyes just in time to see Becky cuffing the black spikes of hair crowning her brother’s head. The crushing tension had broken. Jomo risked a shaky grin of triumph. Her prayers had been answered- she would be spared from a six-week hangover after all.

“Awesome!” she crowed, high fiving Liz elaborately. “You’d better go pack! We’re leaving tomorrow… in Kevin’s car. Isn’t that right, Kevin?”

Everyone turned to Kevin curiously. He was sprawling on Jomo’s bed, a bent cigarette protruding from the corner of his mouth. He seemed to be thinking about Jomo’s announcement deeply (a spectacular achievement for him, Jomo thought).

After a while he shrugged casually.

“Yeah, whatever, but I get to choose where we go. My car, my choice.”

Jomo spluttered, thinking of the dodgy places Kevin could take them to. She could easily imagine him setting up camp outside the front door of a whorehouse. Well, if he did take them somewhere of that nature she could easily persuade the others to abandon him in the night (except perhaps Becky, who adored every inch of Kevin’s no-good body).

Eventually Jomo nodded her consent with a wry smile.

“I guess that’s fair. You’re the boss.”

So the next day the five of them had piled into Kevin’s car and journeyed for miles together, each asking playfully if they were ‘there yet’. When Kevin finally informed them that they had arrived, Jomo peered with interest out of one grubby window. She noticed a rotting sign in the grass that read ‘Camp Crystal Lake’. The name rang a bell in her head yet she couldn’t place exactly where she’d heard it before. Kevin saw her thoughtful expression and leaned into the back seat to leer at her.

“What’s the matter? Wanna turn back?” he mocked. Jomo glared at him.

“Uh, no. What gave you that idea? Drive on man. I wanna see exactly where you’ve dragged us in this wreck of a vehicle.

“Yes mother,” Kevin said under his breath. Becky tittered dutifully, always the obediently amused girlfriend.

Jomo rolled her eyes. What a surprise.

“No, asshole,” she countered. Kevin grunted something unrepeatable in reply and gripped the steering wheel as if it had a personal grudge against him. Liz knocked fists with Jomo and grinned, sharing her victory.

But despite Kevin’s temporary defeat, he managed to keep up their edgy banter until the car jerked to a halt. Jomo saw they were parked a few metres from a clear lake. Several trees clustered together to form a shadowy wood around it. Jomo had to admit she was impressed. Some gothic part of Jomo was thrilled with Kevin’s campsite choice, if a little unnerved. She had seen enough horror movies to fuel some slight unease with her surroundings. The dark, twisted skeletons of the trees were barely masked by their leaves and the lake was a stormy grey colour. Jomo realised it was reflecting the sky and shuddered. She loathed bad weather.

“Oh, baby, it’s great!” Becky was simpering. She kissed Kevin’s cheek. “You’re so smart!”

Jomo, sickened by this sugary-sweet display, got right out of the car. Immediately she started shivering. A cold breeze had picked up- very unusual for summer. It was also ridiculously dark. It was early afternoon and already the skies were blackening.

The car door clicked suddenly and Liz escaped from the car too. Grinning lazily she shielded her eyes against imaginary sunlight. She looked calm and serene as always, unfazed by anything. Jomo envied her. Liz didn’t have to work hard to keep up an endlessly chirpy façade like Jomo did. Liz was entirely at ease with herself but, ofcourse, she had no reason not to be.

“So, are we gonna set up the tents or something?” Liz asked quietly. Jomo was about to reply when the remaining three teenagers clambered out of the vehicle, immediately interrupting the tranquil air Liz had brought about with her presence.

“Jesus, it’s freezing!” Becky squeaked. Her shrill voice made Jomo wince, as did the fact she was wearing a tiny vest with no bra. “Hey Kev, can you get my jacket out of the trunk for me?”

Jomo caught Kevin glancing down at Becky’s chest for a split second before answering.

Always the pervert, she thought in disgust. What a manwhore.

Kevin flashed her a toothy grin as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Nah, Becky, you’ll be ok without it. It ain’t that cold.”

As if to prove a point he had unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his toned chest.

“How about we take a look around?” he suggested. “Grab the camera, Bobby. We can take some photos to prove to my old man I ain’t been drug smuggling.”

Bobby had conveniently brought one of those retro cameras (the kind that print out the photographs moments after they’ve been taken). Everyone seemed impressed with it, especially Liz. She spent the next half-hour chatting about it with Bobby, skipping beside him sweetly. Jomo stopped dead and simply watched in poisonous jealousy as the two separate couples vanished into the depths of the woods to explore together. She felt very bitter. Jomo had never even had a boyfriend and was, consequently, feeling left out. She swore to herself if these lovebirds rubbed their happiness in her face one more time she would personally take a gun to Cupid.

“Come on, Jomo! Hurry up or we’ll leave you behind!” someone yelled.

“Wouldn’t be no great loss,” Kevin’s voice could be heard saying rudely.

Reluctantly Jomo began to follow, gritting her teeth. She had a strong feeling her camping-trip was going to be hell…

* * * * * *

“Jomo, quick, get in the picture! We want one with everybody together!”

Jomo blinked. For quite a while now she had been staring into space as her friends snapped each other in crazy poses. There were several random pictures of each person alone. Becky’s snap was ridiculously sexy, breasts thrusted out and lips pouted. Jomo considered screwing up this next photo so that Becky’s annoying, attention-seeking head was blurred into a flesh-coloured blob.

She snatched up the camera and turned in over in her hands.

“Right! Is there a timer anywhere?”

“Yeah, that button on the back. Put the camera on that rock and run for it. The flash goes off pretty quickly.”

Jomo obeyed and made a wild dash for the others, who were jostling for position in a mismatched line. Becky had predictably hogged the middle with her arms around the boys. However, Liz surprised Jomo by squeezing in beside Kevin, slipping one hand over his ass suggestively. Bobby didn’t look happy about it. Jomo couldn’t blame him. Liz was supposed to be the angel of the group, always to be trusted. But now she was acting just like Becky. And Becky was a slut. She’d slept with twelve different guys. She’d even been pregnant once, although she’d had the brat aborted before you could say ‘teen mom’.

And now Liz was getting suspiciously close to the manwhore. Well, it was none of Jomo’s business really. Liz could be whatever the heck she wanted, slut or not.

Shaking the thoughts from her head Jomo made a ‘rock on’ sign just in time for the camera’s flash. Startled by the blinding light she staggered, almost losing a boot in the process.

“Nice shoes, Jomo,” Kevin said, looking down at her feet. He actually sounded genuine.

“These things? They’re fetish boots, man,” Jomo replied with a quick grin. “I could totally be Goth but unfortunately old Liz here won’t let me…”

Liz raised her head at the mention of her name. She was brandishing the brand new photo as if it was an offensive weapon.

“Check it out! Jomo only just made it on!”

This was true. Half of her head had been sliced off the photograph whereas everybody else was fully pictured. Jomo slipped a hand behind her glossy black bob of hair, pouting sensually.

“Don’t slate the sexy half-head,” she said, strutting like a catwalk model. “Behold the amazing left side of her face! It’s adorable!”

Like an actress, Jomo had slipped back into happy-mode. Instantly everybody seemed more at ease with her. She was showered with approval when she produced a black sharpie from her back pocket. They quickly discovered how useful it was for tagging photos. Jomo took great pleasure in writing ‘Crystal Lake Camping Trip’ across the top of the group picture in curly italics.

She was dimly starting to remember why these people were her friends. She thought she should maybe try harder to treat them as such.

As usual, though, Kevin had to screw things up. He snatched up the sharpie and drew a dead face on the photo with little crosses for eyes. Jomo couldn’t help feeling annoyed and slightly creeped out by his graffiti.

“What the hell is your problem? You’ve just messed up our best photo!”

“Cool it Tiny, we can always take another one,” Kevin said with insolent calm.

“That’s not the point!” Jomo found herself yelling, her temper bubbling over. “And I know I’m small! Shut up about it!”

To everybody else’s delight Jomo dived at Kevin’s legs and tackled him to the ground, landing him in a muddy patch. Even Becky couldn’t help giggling as Jomo jumped on him lightly a few times. She provoked their laughter further by performing a little victory dance. Unfortunately Kevin didn’t find this at all amusing. He set his jaw grimly and grabbed a large chunk of Jomo’s hair.

“Hey, careful you don’t snap her neck,” Becky called, leaning on Liz for support. Jomo, meanwhile, flailed in Kevin’s grip. She could tell he had been building up to this for a long time. She could sense his rage. He had been humiliated one too many times and now he was getting his revenge.

Jomo tried to regain her dignity, or at least lodge her foot somewhere in the vicinity of Kevin’s crotch, but he seemed to be an expert at dodging well-aimed kicks. While Jomo struggled angrily, Kevin scrawled the words ‘dead meat’ across her outfit. The ink soaked into her clothes like blood on a sponge, staining them. Once he was done with her Kevin simply tossed Jomo to the ground like trash.

“You’re a real douche bag,” Jomo declared furiously, scrubbing at the words with her palm. “This stuff is permanent, right?”

Kevin lit up a cigarette nonchalantly. “Yup.”

Before he had spoken there had been an uneasy silence. Now it had vanished and giggles threatened again.

“Fuck you, Kevin, fuck you,” Jomo snapped. “This is one of those ‘if I had a gun moments’. Bang bang. Dead. All Rejoice.”

“I wouldn’t rejoice,” said Becky.

Jomo snarled at her irately.

“Shut up, bitch. Now I’m going back to the car for some clean clothes. Yo, Kevin, toss me the keys. It’s the least you can do.”

Kevin threw the car-keys at Jomo’s head. Luckily they missed and she caught them.

Jomo turned away from the others. She felt like crying with frustration. She’d arranged this camping trip so that they could learn to be better friends, but things hadn’t changed a bit. She should have known Kevin would play up. Sure enough, once Jomo was five metres away from the group his disrespectful tones drawled out one of his crappy jokes.

“If this was a horror movie, this would be the part where the killer jumps outta the woods, grabs her and yells ‘GOTCHA’!”

And to Jomo’s misery and disappointment every one of her friends laughed. Even Liz.

* * * * * *

He watched her from the shadows cast by the trees, hidden from view. He saw how small and defenceless the girl was. Compared to him she was mere speck of a thing. He could crush her spine with one hand. But despite this, he didn’t take even a single step towards her. He simply stood silently, staring at the stumbling figure as she ran blindly onwards. She was utterly alone. Vulnerable. Helpless…