Born in the small town of Crystal Lake on the 13th of June, 1946 to Elias and Pamela Voorhees, I was afflicted with severe facial deformities, had an abnormally small brain and large heart and was mentally disabled. Raising me on her own, Pamela kept me isolated from the community, not letting me attend school and presumably educating me (or at least attempting to) in my home on the outskirts of Crystal Lake.
In the summer of 1957, my mother, unable (or possibly unwilling) to get a babysitter for me, resorted to bringing me to Camp Crystal Lake, where she worked as a cook. Bullied relentlessly by the campers due to my handicaps, I, trying to escape my tormentors, fell off a dock and into the lake, where I seemingly drowned due to the counselors who were supposed to be supervising the children being too preoccupied with having sex (at least, according to mother). Though no body was ever found, it was assumed I died and the camp briefly closed as a result, but reopened the next summer, only to be closed again when Mom, mad with grief, murdered Barry and Claudette, the counselors she blamed for my drowning. Mom was never suspected of the murders and all subsequent attempts to open the camp ended in failure, presumably due to sabotage on mother's part, resulting in the camp being nicknamed "Camp Blood" by the locals, who came to believe the area was cursed.
In actuality, I somehow survived falling into Crystal Lake (or possibly died and was somehow returned to life) and, constructing and living in a crude shelter in the forest, seemingly waited for my mother to find me, managing to live off the land and whatever I could pilfer from the camp.
In the summer of 1979, Steve Christy, the son of Camp Crystal Lake founders David and Louise Christy, began trying to re-open the camp, hiring several teenagers from out of town to assist him. Enraged by Steve's actions, mother murdered him and almost all his employees, with only Alice Hardy surviving, the girl managing to behead my mother with a machete on the waterfront. After killing mother, Alice fell asleep in a canoe and, before being rescued by police, had a nightmare in which a young, decayed me leapt out of the water and dragged her under. When Alice told the police about me attacking her, they reassured her that they never found any evidence of a boy in the lake.
While Alice was passed out in the canoe, I, having witnessed my mother's death, grabbed her sweater, severed head and the machete that killed her, and returned to my shack with them, placing the objects on a crude altar I had constructed.
Alrighty then.
