Ever since you were young, your home had been terrorized by an army that wished for nothing more than dominance and control. When you were very little, only around seven or so, you were taken by them. Ever since then, you had been a part of their side, forced to fight by your superiors. It was a living hell on earth.

Recently, your teammates had found that their information had been given to a Task Force that was taking them down one by one, and they had blamed you - calling you a traitor and saying that you were giving out secrets like candy. You were locked in a cell, tortured for days on end. Waterboarding, electrical shocks, sleep deprivation, humiliation, anything they could think of. But you had nothing, not even a clue about what you had supposedly done wrong.

You were laying on the floor, trying to recover from what they had put you through this time. Burning, all across your skin were blisters from today. As you laid face-down, shaking as your hands covered the burnt skin, you heard screaming and gunshots. Louder, coming closer.

"Sir, there's a child here!" You heard a voice yell. "They are wearing the enemy uniform!"

"No fucking way..." You heard your cell open, and someone grabbed your shoulders, trying not to be too rough. He turned you over so he could get a proper look at you, seeing the burns and scars you had gotten. "Hey, hey- it's alright. Everything's okay now."