Afterlife

Chapter 4: Hello

I just stare at Commander Jackson.
"The Pentagon? What, am I a terrorist or something? Are you keeping me in this prison? What could I even have done?!" I ask slamming my hands on the table, standing up in anger.
As soon as I realize what I just did, I look at my shaking hands and sit back down.
Commander Jackson looks at me inquisitively.
"See, you're reflexes are already kicking in. Soon you'll be back to normal."
"Normal?! Are you kidding me? You just told me I am somewhat immortal. Do you seriously think I am "normal"?" I lean back in my chair.
I think for a minute.
"You're crazy. This whole "story" you're telling me can't be true. I am Gwen Grace Wright, and I am going to get back to my daughter. That's a promise." Those last words slip off my tongue quick.
Commander Jackson leans back in his chair.
He studies me for a moment.
"Ms. Andrews...."
"Mrs. Wright." I correct him.
"Ms. Andrews..." He says sternly.
"You are Ms. Mary Isabella Andrews. You do not have a daughter, nor a husband. And you will do as we say or else we will make that last statement permanent. Do I make myself clear?"
"We?" I ask.
"Are we clear, Ms. Andrews?"
"Who is "we" Commander Jackson?"
He looks at me.
"You will soon find out, Ms. Andrews. Now, are we clear?"
I look at him, all of my anger focused on him.
I manage to spit out a response.
"We're clear." I mumble under my breath.
"I'm sorry, what was that Ms. Andrews?"
"We're clear." I repeat louder.
"Please repeat: I am Ms. Mary Isabella Andrews and I do not have a daughter, nor a husband, and I will follow orders when given."
I feel like I could punch the shit out of this man, no problem, but there's something stopping me. Curiosity, maybe? Who is we? What do they want from me, anyway?
I repeat: "I- am Ms. Mary Isabella Andrews- and I do not have a daughter, nor a husband,-and I will follow orders when given."
"See, that wasn't so hard." He says with a fake smile.
"Please wait here, Ms. Andrews, and "we" will be back soon."
As C. Jackson walks out of the room, I try to glance outside, but there is only darkness that swallows his figure as he leaves.
I sit for a little while, rubbing my eyes and running my fingers through my hair, thinking.
So I'm inside the Pentagon. I don't know where my daughter nor husband are. I have no idea what happened to me, and certainly have no idea what they want from me. Great.

After about two hours, five men walk into the room. Four of them walk to each of the corners of the room, and one stands by the door.
All the men are in suits and don't dare look at me.
They all have earpieces and most likely guns under their jackets.
I look at the man in the left corner and notice that he has a bandage over his knuckles.
Before I can study him more, the man by the door brings his wrist to his mouth.
He says, "It's all clear, sir, you can enter now."
He drops his arm and returns it to its place behind his back.
A minute later, I see the doorknob turn.
I get this nervous feeling in my gut.
Who is coming? Is that "we"?
The doorknob clicks and the door swings open. Another man walks in.
I relax for some reason.
The man pulls up a chair and sits at the opposite end of the table.
He looks at me for a moment before speaking.
"Hello, Ms....Andrews."
I reply, shocked.
"Hello, Mr. President."