[001. ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ]

62 5 0
                                    

MOTHER'S LOVE

"I thought we were in love!"
"You're a fucking joke!"

"I thought we were in love!""You're a fucking joke!"

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

[ LATE JULY 1995 ]

The summers of Sylvia Sinclair contained the same things. At the beginning of her typical summers, she would attend church camp for a week. Then one of the last weeks of July, she attended theatre camp. This summer was different.

Instead, she found herself at church camp for much longer than anticipated and skipping theatre camp altogether!

The same blonde girl was taking in the scenery as her parents drive her away from Woodsboro. Though many had their misconceptions about church camps in the summer, this one truly wasn't all that bad.

Sure, it was like every other camp— getting up early and your standard cabins— but, it was actually enjoyable. This year, Sylvia was one of the older ones and got to be a counselor for the rest of the summer. That would make it a breeze.

In August, Sylvia would return the week before school started. Maybe this camp would be a good redeemer for her very unfortunate last few weeks. She had gotten a job at the small theatre because the record store was being shut down — yet another reason she decided to be a counselor.

Certainly she didn't need the money but she's the type of person who hates asking for favors and money. She is very independent on things.

Eventually, her parents pulled into the gravel lot which sat in front of a large sign welcoming them to the campsite— which was exactly an hour away from Woodsboro.

The normal California heat was beating down on Sylvia as she grabbed her things and said her goodbyes. She wanted to quickly make her way to her cabin, in hopes it would feel much cooler inside, which she later learned it had not.

Later, at the campfire, they did simple meet and greets with all the campers, including the counselors and the very few adults.

"Hey, Sylvia, right?" A young boy had asked her. He seemed to have been a year or two older than her. Probably a senior. He had dark hair and it hung low on his face. He had hazel colored eyes that were in a way mysterious as they looked at you. He didn't wear his personality on his sleeve.

She stared right in his eyes, something he hadn't been used to. "Yeah, who are you?" She kindly asked with a smile.

"Marty." He simply replied, trying to be slick and charismatic. He pointed to the seat next to her to ask for permission. She nodded with a confused smile.

 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙄𝙉 ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐWhere stories live. Discover now