I Don't Mind the Rain Anymore- Jason Voorhees x Reader

Chapter twenty eight: Blake (1)

[A/n: These next few chapters will be pretty serious and touchy so for those who get triggered by drinking, neglect, serious stuff in general, etc; please feel free to skip it my lovely Riceballs ♡]

Flashback to an apartment, filled with garbage and dishes everywhere. Empty bottles, cigarette buds and ash trays spewed in random areas. Blake was braiding Angela's hair on the floor as she played with her toy bear in her lap, talking to herself every now and then. She was only four; while he was five and having to take care of her at such an early age. Their parents were goodness knows where, doing things you shouldn't be, especially with children home alone.

"I'm hungry." Angela whimpered, as he finished off tying off her pigtails.

"Okay, I'll be back." He said, standing up and going to the fridge. 

He scanned it with a sigh.
"Not much as usual."

He grabbed the carton of eggs that only had two left, and a half empty bag of bread. Scrambling some eggs for his sister and making toast, she scurried to the small table when the smell of food filled the air.

Making the table as clean as he could, he set a the plate in front of her. 

"Thanks bro!" She grinned, eagerly chomping down the meal. He smiled and pet her head before she prompt shooed him away and fixed her hair. 

Getting to work on cleaning up the apartment while she ate was routine at this point. He'd clean up and then his parents would come home, make a mess and yell and pass out. In the morning they'd be gone all day until they came home and repeated the process. On weekdays he'd get her ready for school and help her onto the bus. The school tried to get into contact with their parents but they gave excuses every time. They just assumed that they were hard working and busy parents but in reality they just didn't care. Blake wanted to hurry up and grow older so he could take his sister and leave. Nobody was going to care about them, so why would he bother telling an adult at his school? He was too scared for what would happen to him or his sister if their parents found out they had snitched.

It went like this for as long as he could remember. He had found albums of when he was a baby when cleaning. Seeing the pictures had made him tear up. He missed his grandmother who had raised him until she passed away. His mom had changed and gotten so bitter and his father turned to gambling when he lost his job. They'd argue all the time. His mom used to stick up for them but once she did drugs and became an alcoholic, she had changed. Her temper was short and she stopped coming home, rarely wanting to even look at them.

It felt like this would be his entire life until he was of age to leave. He might be a kid but he knew what pain was.

Until the fateful day his mom brought home a flier for Camp Crystal Lake. She had thrown it at them and said she'd take them if they left her alone for the rest of the night.
He wasn't sure why or where she got it or what her intentions were, but he'd do anything if it meant getting away from her.

He told his sister who was equally excited to find another girl playmate rather than always hanging with her brother who they bickered more often now but it was mostly out of spite and simply wanting attention from each other. Besides, he secretly had fun going back and forth with Angela.

On the day he got them ready, his mom drove them to camp, but was being nice and out of character. He didn't think anything of it at first, and of course Ange ate it up; thinking she had changed a bit. 

"She let us go out during summer vacation, she must be warming up to us right?" She had whispered to him in the backseat as they drove suspiciously fast- in his opinion.

"Hm."
Brushing her off, he simply nodded and went back to looking out the window at the upcoming trees.

She shrugged and went back to looking at the flier with hope in her eyes; thinking about all the exciting things she'd finally get to do.

Blake was on edge the entire time, but he promised himself he would be there for his loud sister regardless of their bickering.


The car jerked suddenly to the right, causing his mother to curse.

"Mom!" Angela whined, after bumping into Blake.

"Ugh get off." He brushed off her arm like she was diseased. 

"I'm not some bug!" She slapped his arm while he scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Then why do you look like one?" He retorted while she fumed, about to wack him again.

"Shut UP!" 

Their mom's famous screechy scream made them flinch and recoil back against their seats. She downed the rest of her beer bottle and chucked it behind her, just missing Blake's head. Too frightened to move, Blake held Angela's hand to ease both of their shaking as they held back the tears and strain forming in their throats.

After a head shake and hair tossing moan after cursing again, she turned the radio on and blasted some pop song.

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Once they reached the lot- or actually wherever their mom made the car stop, she slammed on the brakes and exited the car whilst swaying a bit from side to side. Holding the sides of the car door she hoisted her way out and struggled her way to their trunk. Unlocking it, she grabbed the two bags, hauled them out and let them fall onto the grass with a thud. The two siblings left the car on the same side since only one door worked, and stood by their mom.

When she finally turned to them, it made Blake's blood run cold. Her face on that last day will forever be burned into his head. It was emotionless. He'd say her eyes were as empty as their fridge was. It was as if she knew something he didn't; at least she thought.

Angela being oblivious, reached out for her mother for a hug but Blake immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Ouch! What is your problem?!-" But seeing his serious demeanor made her fall silent.

Holding his mothers ice cold gaze with a challenging one of his own, she simply smirked. But her eyes fell behind.

It was all an act. It was always, an act.

Not uttering a word, she pushed past them and climbed back into the broken down vehicle. The engine sputtered a few time before a loud bang went off and black gas hit the children's faces- making them cough and wave in the air. The car groaned and sped off, leaving them alone.

As it should be.

✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿ (つω'｡) ✿•*'¨*'•.¸✯

Phew! Blake was so pessimistic there at the end. I would be too.

I know people will argue saying five year olds can't think that maturely, but as someone who grew up in a cruddy household as well, let me tell you from experience that I remember being five vividly as well. Trauma affects the brain even at an early age, making you maturer than the kids around you.

Hang in there loves, we're all aboard the feels-train.