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“Then why does it say patients?" You asked Atlas, "Atlas, you have to remember something about your past.”

Atlas closed the notebook and tossed it back in the box. He pressed the base of his hand on his forehead. “I can’t!"

You placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have to, Atlas. I’m afraid everything that's going around here has something to do with you.”

He stood up and let out a heavy sigh. “Me? I’m literally just some guy with no past. I’m just here existing in peace, playing my guitar, taking part-time jobs, just existing in peace,” his voice trailed off. “It’s impossible. There must be some other reason for this. Maybe it’s the cops; maybe they are pinning everything on me. I don’t know anymore! ”

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“Please calm down,” you said.

Atlas took his breaths slowly. "I need to sleep.”

Atlas slept on the couch, while you slept in his bed. You locked the door, afraid that the man would come back. Your senses are telling you that he has something to do with everything. It’s not a far-fetched idea after all the mystical events that have happened.

When morning came, you prepared yourself for the whole day ahead. John made breakfast for the three of you. He noticed how terrible you and Atlas looked.

“Okay…? What happened?" John asked.

You and Atlas looked at each other. In the end, you were the one to explain everything. You noticed how John’s face became white as a ghost, to the point that Atlas was very concerned.

“He came back,” John mumbled.

——

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