by Headlessly Philly…
My name is Wasif and I live in one of those countries where fun is forbidden and women walk around all wrapped up in blankets. It’s a backward nation—on the outside—but what goes on behind closed doors is much like any Western country, especially the USA.
I’m a teenager in an oil-rich country and in public, while I do have to live like it’s still the 11th century, in private I’m just like any other teenager. I like to talk on the phone and text my friends, I like to hang out on all the social media sites (especially Tumblr), and I love, I LOVE playing video games.
My family has money so I get all the video games I want. And No, my father is not in the oil business. He is a commodities trader. You think that’s all we can do, drill for oil? He works in the stock market. Okay, so he trades in oil futures, but he’s not in the oil business. Okay?
Like I said, my family has money. I, of course, have the video game Infidel, the original one from way back in 2004. I also have Infidel 2, Infidel 3, Infidel 4, and Infidel 5. My favorite part is where they blow up New York City. That’s in Infidel 3. No, wait. That’s Infidel 2. I don’t know. Who cares?
Anyway, that’s pretty much all my life is: video games. So imagine my surprise when the other day these dumbasses with table cloths on their heads come kicking in my door and drag me from my room—from my house—throw me into the backseat of a van and blindfold me. But I was just about to nuke London in the much-anticipated preview of Infidel 6. Damn!
They drove me around for hours until we finally reached our destination. From all the movies I’d seen I could only imagine I was in some Bedhouin shit hole out in the desert, and that no one was ever going to know where I was. Yes, being in the desert is just as strange for me as it is for you, even if you live in Chicago, Illinois.
I don’t know how long I was there. They finally took the blindfold off and I could see I was in some kind of prison cell, with just one window that let a little light in and a pot to shit and piss in. Just like in the movie Midnight Express. Only, this was no movie; this was the real thing.
How cool was this, I thought? I was really digging on the moment when it started to sink in that this was no movie, no video game, and it got me to thinking just how awesome this really all was. I had been kidnapped. At gunpoint. Me. A teenager. A nobody from a middle-class family in the middle of nowhere. What had I done to deserve such treatment? Wait till I tell my friends.
Wait till I tell Kaliq. He’s never going to believe me. And Mulhim, and Rajab, and Fari. Wait till I tell Majida. I’ll have her panties wet and off in a heartbeat once I tell her how I am now kinap-worthy. But there’s the old saying, “Tatamattae rihlat, walays mjrd wijha – Enjoy the journey, not just the destination.” So that’s what I was going to do. I mean, how many times in your life do you get to get kidnapped, anyway?
The first thing they did was to interrogate me. Imagine that. Me, being interrogated by real-life terrorists. Just like in the movies. It was so cool. They wanted information, top secret information, from me! I had no idea what to say, so I started telling them shit from Infidel 3. That’s my favorite one. There’s a scene in there, an interrogation scene, so I just started repeating the lines verbatim. These guys had no idea what I was talking about.
When they didn’t get the answers they wanted, they beat me. Then, the burned me with cigarettes. After that, they gave me a good foot whipping. Wait till I tell Mr. Asim, my history teacher.
There were three of them in all, but I could tell it was the little guy who was really in charge. They must have thought I was some kind of double agent, what with how long I held out and all. The truth is, no one holds out longer than the idiot who truly doesn’t know anything. Still, they were just getting warmed up.
Next thing I know, the little guy is stepping it up a notch. He puts on a CD of Crazy Mahmoud, the comedian. You know Crazy Mahmoud. He’s the one with the famous joke, “Did you hear the one about the Saudi Citizen? He lived in the halo of the prophet for his whole life and died happily, thankful for everything he received from King Abdullah!” Hilarious!
I was honored. Everyone knows the Crazy Mahmoud treatment is reserved for only the most important political prisoners, the ones who outlast all the usual means of torture.
The next thing they’ve got a Burka on my head and they’re dressing me up like some kind of little girl. That’s the biggest punishment there is. Not death, but to made to look like a woman. Besides, wearing a Burka leads to something even worse than shame: losing your driver’s license.
They tortured me every way they could and I have to say, the whole experience was awesome. Hard to believe, Me, Wasif Misfud, kidnapped by terrorists and tortured for days in some shit hole out in the desert where no one would ever hear from me again.
And that, unfortunately, leads us to the end of our story. I guess they realized they weren’t going to get any information, or perhaps they just got bored with me, when they decided to cut my head off just like you’ve seen on the internet so many times before. I have to say, in all honesty, actually being the one who gets decapitated is so much cooler than just watching it on TV. Way cooler!
As I lay there on the floor with my head rolling around, I thought, now this, this was a great ending to a video game. This is exactly how the torture scene in Infidel 3 should have been. Maybe I can call the video-game company and make suggestions for the next version. Maybe they’ll even call it Infidel 7 – The Decapitation. You know, after me.
Still, as I watched them drag my body out the door, I thought, wait till I tell everyone how they cut my head clean off. I was going to be a rock star back at school. How cool is that?