The Real Enemy

Scarlett and Matthew

THREE TEENS GONE MISSING IN ABANDONED MORTENMOOR ASYLUM
POLICE BLAME BAD INFRASTRUCTURE; MONTH LONG SEARCH TO BE CONDUCTED
Emleton Daily: July 13, 2013

Matthew Hillendale and I were adventurous. Thats's why we went to the Mortenmoor Asylum.

Mortenmoor was a kind of ritual that most juniors completed, traveling through the asylum late in the night. The mental hospital was founded back in 1905; its mission was to "purify the souls of the mentally sick." From what I've heard, they used flat out torture- and a bit of Christianity-to go about their mission. The place was actually run by nuns, one in particular noted the most: Mrs.Blackwell. It's said she committed suicide in the asylum, along with the original "Doctor." Many patients either died, or got released in 1934. That was when the government had finally had enough; they let out the remaining patients.

When I first met Matt, as a sophomore, he seemed like the guy to be with. A couple of my friends proclaimed how hot he was; I just observed from afar. But this year he finally approached me; we have a lot of classes together. We had gotten to know each other more recently, but I still remember exactly how he looked when he finally asked me out: Curly brown hair in a quiff, his high cheekbones a prefect match for his tan skin, bright blue/green eyes, strong brows, and a white smile that had a little dimple on the side. Muscular shoulders; a varsity rower and football player on our school's teams. Matt had his hands in his blue jeans, his plain cotton shirt was rumpled, revealing his strong biceps. After AP Chem, Matt came up to me. He had a slight blush on his cheeks, and looked up at me through his thick lashes.

"Scarlett, would you like to go on a date with me?" He said.

I was surprised at how steady his voice was, though he was obviously a bit anxious. I looked around, expecting my friends to be gathered, stifling laughs. All I could see was the daily grind of students bustling through the hallway.

"Matthew," I said, pausing to glance at my feet, and looked up, "I'd love to."

Just like that, we were a couple. The couple, I might add. Lately though, I could tell he was in a bad mood. We've been dating for five months. I'm usually not super confident about my appearance: medium length curly black hair. I'm tallish, and my hazel eyes and long lashes used to have glasses covering them up. Some people call me too skinny, but I'd like to remind them I've got some where it counts. Right before I met Matthew, it started getting chilly. October weather is the absolute best. On that particular day, I had on a chunky green sweater that brought out my eyes, simple black leggings, and black combat boots with gray crew socks. It was sunny that day, and my creamy white scarf kept me cozy and warm from the wind. I had straightened my hair that day, and actually looked like I made an effort. Nowadays, I've realized that you don't have to try to impress anyone; only yourself. An "idgaf" attitude is what I'd like to call it. Matthew treats me like a goddess, so I roll with the punches, and be myself.