Day 3: The Interrogation
She wore a yellow dress, styled her hair in ponytails, applied lipstick and powder, and sprayed her perfume. She was now ready to face the commander and the man named HERRERA for the interrogation, suspecting she might be an ally of their enemies, the Sans Serif and the Simpkins people. She opened her room door and was surprised to find two soldiers waiting outside. They approached her and handcuffed her hands. She wanted to protest but could do nothing but comply.
She was to be escorted to the commander's office for questioning. She didn't need to be afraid; she was just a volunteer here to help sick and homeless children. She wasn't here for anything else.
After a moment, she sat in the commander's office with the soldier named HERRERA. She felt uneasy because every time the young officer looked at her, she bowed her head, feeling ashamed. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, his attractive lips, and broad shoulders that thrilled her.
The commander began asking questions that rattled her, not just because she was afraid but because she was being accused of being an intelligent agent sent by the Sans Serif. She needed justice. None of the accusations were true. She was just a volunteer headed to Simpkins to help, and nothing more.
"Do I look like a terrorist?" she answered bluntly.
"I told you I was lost and isolated from my group. I don't know how to get back to town." Well, I should be thankful... you saved me from that dark forest," she said with courage, looking the Sergeant in the eye. Again, she felt uneasy every time she looked at the young officer, so she turned her gaze to the commander to avoid his looks.
"But why are you accusing me of being an ally of your enemy?"
"No, we're not; we're just verifying your identity to ensure your identification isn't fake. We will take care of everything."
"I need my phone. I need to contact my friends... I shouldn't be here..."
"Okay... dial it now." Sergeant Herrera unlocked the handcuffs, gave her the phone, and allowed her to talk to her friends.
She hurried to pick up her phone and immediately dialed one of her friends' numbers.
But the line was busy and disconnected. She dialed again, but it kept disconnecting. She sat down, feeling helpless, with nothing she could do. She hoped to get away from this camp, the Arland Soldiers' camp. How could she find her friends now? Where could she ask for help? The Arland Soldiers didn't believe her.
Day 4: A Prisoner?
She was now treated like a very important person, always escorted by soldiers and Sergeant Herrera. All eyes were on her; she was like a precious gem to be guarded twenty-four hours a day. She couldn't do anything she wanted; every single detail had to be reported—the way she spoke, moved, and everything else. She had come to Simpkins with her friends to volunteer and help the people, especially the children.
Although it was a bit annoying, she was happy because they showed concern for her, serving her good meals. Yet, she was guarded all day and not allowed to talk to anyone else. Her life would be a little boring in this camp. She now thought about how she would escape from this prisoner camp.
Around 9:00 in the evening, she was still awake, thinking about what would happen to her the next day. She was now guarded by the soldiers, who thought she must be an intelligence operative sent by the terrorists.
She got out of bed and decided to go outside for some fresh air. She wished the door wasn't locked. She tried to open it and was surprised that it wasn't. She walked along the hallway of the camp. Is this what a military camp looks like? Everyone was so busy, military trucks coming and going, all moving fast, as if every hour was important to them. She saw military crafts loaded with firearms.
She felt cold and tried to hug herself. A voice came from behind her.
"It's a nice evening, Ma'am."
She was surprised; it was Mr. SERGEANT who was behind her, and she hadn't even noticed him standing there.
She felt ashamed again, looking at the officer, who looked manly in his army uniform with a killer smile. She felt like she would suddenly faint. She was only wearing a nightgown, so it wasn't a good time to be talking with him.
Sergeant Herrera got closer to her, but she stepped away, feeling ashamed of her nightgown. The officer noticed.
"You shouldn't be afraid of me; I won't hurt you."
She just smiled and spoke in her own language. "Lumayo-layo ka sa akin at baka matuluyan na akong mahulog sa iyo."
"What did you say?" he asked, curious.
"Nothing. I should go back to my room," she said.
"Okay then, sleep well. I think I need to accompany you back to your room... Is that okay?"
She just smiled, wondering what was on the Sergeant's mind. Maybe he thought she would try to escape.
The Sergeant escorted her back to her room. She felt a bit ashamed; it wasn't good to be seen like this, and she never thought she would be in a military camp, so she shouldn't be wearing this kind of dress.
Her heart pounded with a happy feeling. Talking with the Sergeant was one of the best things that had happened all day. She smiled every time she thought about how they suspected she was a Sans Serif terrorist. She wondered if she wanted to be their prisoner for life. But that would never happen; she needed to get out of here—a military camp that felt like hell to her.