Green grass. Meadows filled with flowers. I bend down to pluck a flower and sniff, but it crumbles at my touch. I'm sad, and lonely, but I have no where else to go, nothing else to do except wait for anything to end this loneliness. 

As though my wish has been granted, I return to the real world out of this reverie. A stinging pain across my back rouses me and motivates me to pick back up my rock and keep moving. 

Silky, dark crimson hair, so dark it is almost black. It is matted with blood and sweat. Blue-green eyes as deep as an endless ocean. These eyes are filled with pain and suffering. Features that could be considered incredibly adorable. But this face is covered in bruises and more blood, obscuring his true features. A young body that is frail, weak, small, broken, and scarred. A tongue that is unable to let out words. I am Bayan. I am a mute. I am a slave. This is my story…