ATLAS - A Mafia Romance

𝐓𝐰𝐨

"𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓹𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮"
· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Quickly, I exhaled and jolted up before breathing rapidly, holding my heart -realising it was a dream.

"Not this shit again" I whispered under my breath, I've been having a certain dream for the past week and I'm not sure why since I'm nowhere near walking into such a sophisticated scene.

Cold chilly winds withered through my clothes making me clench up, forcing me to adjusted the box that was covering me as I laid back down onto the cold frigid ground.

I was alone in this, "world" trying to fend for myself after I had run away.

'They' never taught us about the real world in the academy, all I knew was self-defence and how to injure someone with a toothpick.

Although it was my choice to run, I was kind of regretting my choices now, if I had stayed at the academy then I wouldn't be here thinking my bad choices have led me to an unfavourable present.

I was thinking about turning back, running back to the academy. But I didn't.

It was all lies, they brainwashed us all, made us believe we were orphans when they are the ones that made us orphans due to there occasional killing sprees. As I laid there it came to my realisation that I didn't know what to do now, what was my next move?

1-Run away from the academy, completed.

2- I'm oblivious. I mean running away was all my mind was set on doing so I didn't think about what I'd do when I accomplished it.

All I knew was I had to find a man by the name of Mr Abrams. So he could translate something for me.

A few days ago I received a letter, an odd one actually, it was in an enigma code. Do you know the one the germans used in one of the world wars? If you know, you know. If you don't, go do some reading.

The code consisted of 14 letters but I couldn't un-code them without the right resources, I needed someone to translate it so when I was still at the academy I went digging for this contact book that had all the contacts of teachers that taught us there since phones or other technology is strictly forbidden. Anyway - my code teacher was there.

I

memorised his address.

He used to teach us how to crack codes and all that, I used to find it Intriguing but his lessons flew out of my ear as I daydreamed instead. He was called Mr Abrams like I mentioned, or Mr A, for short.

He's lean, about 5'7, very nice man. But very odd fashion sense, since I only ever saw him in a suit. I always wondered if he owned any other clothes. Sandals and beach shorts would probably disgust him.

"What are you doing here" A husky voice growled at me as I snapped out of my whirlpool of thoughts.

I jumped up, facing this middle-aged man who had clothes that resembled the colour of chocolate. His eyebrows creased to show the years he's spent worrying about things and his eyes, staring down at my fail-looking and shaking body.

"I could ask you the s-same"
I only stuttered because I was cold.

I'd never stutter, especially in front of a man. They don't deserve my stutterness. Pretend that's a word.

"Well I'm homeless, and a girl like you should be in school"

I blinked at him, then proceeded to knock him out. It's not what it looks like.

I just needed his coat.

Smiling, I adjusted the big coat on myself but sneezed at the smell, it stank but my health and keeping warm mattered more to me right now, I had to somehow get to the airport before the morning's sun rose.

Mr Abrams always takes jets to and from the academy, it puzzles me why he had to travel so far just for a silly little academy that engages in training mentally unstable and scared orphans into thinking their parents died in a car crash just to manipulate them into being deadly assassins or more. breathe.

Anyways, I needed to get to the airport and catch Mr A before he boarded the jet to leave and make him take me to wherever he was going with him. The last thing I needed was to stay here. In America. Besides, there's a big ass paedophile orange for president.

l need a break.

And no, I don't trust him. (Mr A), I assume he would probably tell the academy I was there with him and they'd come for me. But at this point in my life, I realised:

I don't fucking care,

Like at all.