Flyboy Teaser...you guys are going to want to kill me!

I'm going to go buy a hardhat for when the next chapter posts. I've always known it would be part of the plot and we are drawing to a close...thus I have to get to it eventually...Just remind yourself... "She Always Gives Us An HEA....She ALWAYS gives us an HEA!" Also this has not been betaed yet...in case there are errors...

Everything was going well back home. With the exception of missing Edward and worrying about him while he was away, the clouds had cleared and things were truly looking up. I should have known that the sunshine can only stay for so long before another storm blows through to ruin the peace.

For months and months, I had nothing but good dreams about Edward. Each and every one, even when I was riding with him, were positive. Edward had never told me anything about escorting bombers on raids, because it wasn’t allowed, but I knew because I was there. I was always spared the rough parts though, only getting to ride through the white fluffy clouds, seeing the bright blue sky engulfing the forms of massive bombers dotting the horizon with small fighters like Edward’s hovering throughout to deal with any Nazi fighters who tried to intercept them. I rode through a few exchanges with the Nazi planes, but none of them were nearly as terrifying as the first dream. The fighters would circle just outside of the actual drop zone, staying clear of the flack that filled the air in the distance through which the bombers shuddered and jerked until they reached their targets and dropped their bombs at which point the fighters would rejoin them to escort them home.

In dreams like these, I finally began to think positively about the war, believing we were reaching the end as the bombers went in and leveled production facilities throughout Germany, Romania, and many other surrounding areas. Finally, it seemed like we might just be seeing results, and I think perhaps I started to get too cocky as well, convinced he would be home soon.

That was until the night of December 21, 1944, the night that my blood ran cold in my veins as I watched in horror before I awoke screaming at the top of my lungs.