The name’s Cruz Mathews. 30 years young, born n’ raised In Oregan, USA, however, while I was raised there, no one had a clue as to who my birth parents were. They gave me up when I was born to an Orphanage, the Oregon Alliance of Children's (OAC). I had been in quite a few foster homes throughout my life, either the people that they paired me with were quite into drugs or they had mental health issues which obviously was unsafe for a child. I inherited the name Mathews from the last person that took care of me their name was George Henry Mathews. He was into hunting quite a lot, he even showed me how to fire a gun. Despite his love for hunting, he always was really supportive of what I wanted to do when I grew up — That being becomin’ a teacher so I could “mold the minds of children” so to speak.
Fast-forwarding a few years to my adulthood, instead of becoming a public school teacher, I became a private global tutor, a step up from a practical teacher, I’d like to think. In February 3rd of 2017, I’d gotten an e-mail from a Chernarussian public school teacher asking for me to help a 13-year-old boy, Yuri Turgenev From Gorka, Chernarus, to reach his goals. I had to give it some thought at first cause I’d be leaving most of everything I know and love behind in the US for some time. After some thought, I decided to go. “Fuck it!” I thought, “Might be an adventure.” Boy, was I wrong. Soon as I landed at the North East Air Field of February 10th of 2017, I could see a lot of sick people, I looked up at the T.V. and saw that hospitals were overrun, completely booked to the brim. It was utter chaos. But despite all my instincts that were telling me to leave, I couldn’t help but picture that young boy all alone. I went to the address as instructed in the e-mail and I saw young Yuri. His eyes lit up as he clutched onto that I.V. stand of his. His excitement reassured me in my decision to stay. For a Chernarussian kid, he spoke pretty good English, and I tried my best to communicate with him.
Two months passed while he and I grew closer, all throughout our time together, making sure to protect him. Afterall, the lad practically seemed defenseless in his current state. His enjoyment fueled my dedication to help him achieve his goals. However, he was getting a bit sicker each day that rode by. But I tried to make the best of it as I didn’t know much about his condition. In all honesty, he kinda reminded me of me when I was around his age. For he and I both didn't quite know our parents. Because of this, I found myself relating to him, and it just made me want to protect him even more. And in his condition, how could I leave him? After a year, Yuri and I found somewhere secluded — somewhere safe. By now, the outbreak had already set in, but I did not waiver; I was determined to fulfill my promise to him, I wanted to protect him... but I couldn't. Inevitably, one of them got him. One of the zeds. I… I hate to bring it up these days, but I knew I had failed. It was a painful, horrible death. It was agonizing. It was awful, simply awful. Ever since then, I've vouched, I've sworn to never let anything bad happen to anyone again as long as I can help it. Every waking day, I'm reminded of the regret I feel, the thought of what could’ve been is near too much to bear!