I was born in Dallas, Texas on February 12. As a young boy, I rarely saw my father due to him being a Sergeant Major in the military. I lacked an interest in any school related activities and I generally kept to myself. By the time I was in high school, I had only seen my Dad a couple of times in the past 15 years of my life. But by his 20th deployment, my father and his crew ran over an I.E.D. mine in their Armored vehicle. After hearing of this, I wanted to further improve on my father's service within the military. Due to this, my interest in guns and living off the land peaked. I ended up getting my hands on my father’s rifle that was chambered in .308 Winchester along with his handy dandy Glock 18. For the next two years, I trained and went on numerous hunting and camping trips with some of my friends. While abroad these hunting/camping trips, I learned to be stealthy and gained the knowledge of various plants and animals. I learned to be able to live off the land for long periods of time. One of my accomplishments during those few years was that I killed MANY deer with both of my dad’s old guns that I have claimed, so many that I earned the nickname "Bucky". . . Once I graduated high school, I enlisted into the army. After extensive training at boot camp, I was deployed on my first mission. After a few years of hard work, I achieved the rank of Private First Class. In late June of 2017, I was granted permission to go on leave for 5 weeks. During this time, I got to visit my mother and my high school buddies and I arranged yet another hunting trip. This time we would be going to this place called Chernarus which was featured in the news years back when the Civil War there came to an end. We would be staying in this town called Kamensk which was in the North of the country. After an extensive process of being able to travel with guns along with obtaining our passports, we took a flight to Russia and were transported across a heavily militarized border between there and Chernarus. We arrived at our home for the next week and a half early in the morning on July 3rd. I was confused as to why there was such a small amount of people in a town with houses after houses. On July the 7th I had decided to leave early in the morning to go hunting and by the time I had come back, nearly 24 hours later, Kamensk was a ghost town with nobody, not even my buddies, to be seen. I was all alone and over the next few nights I heard gunfire, artillery bombings, and constant jets flying over my house. I had every right to believe that the country had fallen back into their old ways and burst out into another civil war or something of the sorts. I was left to myself, but I continued to go on hunting trips as this was the reason that I had traveled here in the first place. A week had passed since the mass disappearance of citizens from the town and I was on one of my last hunting trips before I was scheduled to go home. I was on the tracks of what I thought to be a small animal when I had the feeling that I was being watched. I instinctively raised my guard and inspected the surrounding area. All the sudden a person came running at me from a large pine tree. This was no normal person as they were bleeding from their eyes and had this extreme rash all over their skin. I pushed him away from me and told him to back off repeatedly, but he was unresponsive to my commands. It was then when I shot my gun which didn’t faze him. At this point I was scared for my life and did what had to be done. I shot my first “human” and had a strange feeling that this was just the beginning of the hell that I would soon have to endure.