I, Aleš Straka, born in 1991, grew up in a small village north-east of Miroslavel, Chernarus. My father, Eric Straka, was away from home most of the time working in the coal mines of the Black Mountains only to come home for the winter months. My mother was killed when he was born due to complications of child birth. My older siblings were the ones who were taking care of me while my father sent home money for us. One Christmas my father purchased me a pair if ice skates which were worth a lot of Koruna at the time, I would use them as much as I could. Not long after receiving the skates from my father I got into playing hockey. I would travel into Miroslavel to play for the cities teams, playing through from when I was eight years old to when I was eighteen. I joined the military when I turned eighteen after school, I saw tensions rising between our country and the communist people. My father would tell me stories of him growing up when Stalin was in power and under communist rule, how they worked for little to no pay, his father being sent to the gulag to never return. I am glad I wasn't raised in such conditions. I saw the ChDKZ as a threat to my country. I was stationed just outside of South Zagoria seeing combat fairly frequently, then worked with the US Marines to liberate our homeland later in the war. The war lasted not a year but the amount of good people who died overshadows that. After the war I was stationed in Kirovograd for a year until my service ended. I was working as a tour bus driver based out of Chernogorsk, playing hockey on the side. In 2012 I was scouted to play for HC Chernogorsk the hockey club in the regions capital. I played with the team for two years, then being scouted to join the WBS Penguins in America. I played for a just over four years supporting my family back home, buying land for them just north of Elektrozavodsk. In early 2017 I got a call from back home from my brother saying my father hurt after getting caught in a violent protest. I had to go back home and be with my father. My father passed soon after from his injuries from the protest, I was broken after his passing. It seemed like another civil war was imminent. The government declared martial law in May of that year which saw tensions increase a lot. In July things got crazy; we were first seemingly attacked by Russians, that's when my family and I hid out in the large cellar on the land I bought north of Elektro. I tuned into the radio daily to see what was happening. That's the first time I got word of the infection. I heard a large number of refugees were headed down from the north, wanting to help my brothers and their families brought necessities to the camps. It would be the last time I saw them as I heard from the broadcasts the refugees were all sent to the city near my home village for evacuation. I stayed in the cellar at home trying to listen for a sign of hope. There would be none. The last I heard there would be bombing in South Zagoria, that is when the radio went silent, just static. It seemed as if a few days had passed before the cellar flooded. There was a large storm that knocked out power in my house that would be the first time since June I left the cellar. I had a good sleep in my bed that night.