“Have you ever had a dream where Jason is hunting you, and your friends?” She whispered to me.
“Sure. Everyone who has seen Friday 13 must have had this nightmare at least once. It’s common.” I said as I approached her slowly.
She moved carefully, keeping the distance between us.
“I had a similar dream as this one last night.”
I didn’t understand what was wrong about that. I asked and she hesitated. She started whispering again, this time in a lower tone.
“I wasn’t the victim.”
I looked in her dark eyes and they were terrified. I don’t know how I didn’t saw earlier.
She continued.
“I was the one who was murdering everyone. There was blood everywhere.”
Her terrified eyes were now sparkling with tears. A horrible image, and at the same time one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I wanted to hold her in my arms, but I knew she wouldn't like it.
“It was just a dream. Nothing but a dream.”
She consent and dried the tears with the back of her hands gently.
She was almost leaving when I took her hand and said that even if she was Jason I would still love her.
I have no idea where this courage came from, and actually, I don't need to know.
She put her arms around my neck and our lips touched softly. From that moment on I started to have an extra sympathy for Jason Voorhees.
