What I Did on Superbowl Sunday

As the plane spiraled down to the water, all I could feel was the cold metal of the handcuffs on my wrists, and all I could hear was the foreign toungue of my captives. I knew I was going insane when the plane felt like it was going in a reverse spiral. I heard a yelling; I abruptly turned my head around and saw an insurgent pressing a cold steel gun against his throat. He pulled the trigger and sagged in his seat. Blood was everywhere. I expected more gunfire to go off, it was all in their minds. I couldn't do anything, handcuffed, helpless, and lost.

The plane hit the water surprisingly soft, we capsized and I blacked out. I was awoken in a room with what seemed to be two American's. I had been in captivity so long I probably didn't look American. My first words of English, in two years, came out, "I'm American."

One of the agents, who seemed very angry yelled, "Who the fuck are you then?"

I tried my best to explain that I was an American secret service agent who had been compromised in Lebanon, and shipped to a terrorist torture compound. When I had cleared my thoughts, I told them the details; who I was, my boss, my mission, etc. They pulled my file, and told me I was pronounced dead a year and a half ago. God Bless America.

-Rob