I'm Zdravko Bobciovic, I'm 28 years old and I come from Bosnia. After the end Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia in 1992 a violent civil war pervaded Bosnia, a war which took my father’s life. Death and terror were spreading across the country so in 1994 my mother and I fled from Bosnia in search of a place to start over.. away from all of the war and death. So we decided to start a new life in a small, remote town called Chernarus. The tourist board described it as a "relatively quaint country slightly behind in the times" so we knew this was the place we wanted to live. I grew up practicing hunting and also farming ( I learned along side my mother), I've made them my profession and throughout the years I've managed to get enough money to buy myself an apple tree plantation and built a farm. Everything was going as planned, finally my mother and I had a new, fresh, normal life… but it didn’t last long. From 2009, everything went sideways. Just after the start of the civil war I was called up to join the Chernarussian Movement of the Red Star.. I refused I couldn't leave my mother. If I was to suffer the same fate as my father, my mother would be distrought. Needless to say the Chedaki didn't like this so in return they burnt my house down and my farm, everthing I worked for, was gone. My mother lost her life in the fire. I lost everything… my family, my house, my life… I wanted to end it there but I couldn’t, I did not have the guts to do it. I was only 20 years old and homeless… I started wandering from city to city looking for jobs, aid, ANYTHING! I just wanted to have somewhere safe to be, somewhere to call home and just as I thought my life was turning around the outbreak of 2014 happened and I was stuck in Chenarus and back to square one. I was homeless again, but so was everyone else in a sense.