We've been at war for two years now. I wake up every morning around seven AM, earlier if we are fighting. Today, when I woke up two hours earlier, I know that something was going to happen. Something terrible.

My dreams were pits of doom, black fingers curling up at me at every turn. I saw the battlefield before me, thousands, no, millions of Skins advancing. I looked behind me and saw no more warriors behind me, but instead all the people I loved. I had to defend them singlehandedly, but the ground was falling out from under me. I grabbed for the edge of the bottomless chasm, only to see every Skin hold up his hand--

I stand, facing the east and wait for the sun to rise, hoping that the sunlight will shake off this awful feeling of foreboding. I begin to think about my life, and where it's been, and where it could someday lead.

The happiest day of my life was the day Kyle was born. I was a deputy, and I had no idea what real responsibility was. To my dismay he grew up very quickly and he was so much like me. I never wanted him to make my mistakes, and I feared that he would.

I lived the small-town sheriff life until one fall day there was a shooting.

After nine months I found out what I had been searching for...what my father had been searching for. The existence of aliens. There were four of them. Max Evans, Michael Gurrien, Isabel Evans, and Tess Harding.

In my dreams, I had watched my body turn to ash. First my fingers, blowing away in the wind--a torrential downpour of rain, rain that burned my skin--and then my hands. This was when I would realize that without my hands, I wasn't holding on to the edge anymore. I fell into the abyss as my arms disintegrated.

I shot Kyle. I didn't mean to, I didn't. If he died...I would have died. But Max saved his life. I owed him everything.

Soon after that another race of aliens began to take residence on Earth. The Skins. That's when things got out of control. Not just with that, but with my personal life.

That year I began to seriously date a woman by the name of Amy DeLuca. That July we were married. I loved her with everything I had inside of me. I don't think Kyle, or her daughter, Maria felt exactly the same way.

That fall the alien invasion of the Skins began to expand outside of Roswell. Soon people all over the world were being murdered and then turned to ash.

I would begin to fall more slowly at this point. As my shoulders blew away, I saw faces on the sides of the pit. They were the faces of the people who had been standing behind me, and I would realize with a start that, with no other warriors to protect them, the Skins would--But even my most horrifying nightmare did not make me witness that. The knowledge alone was enough to torment me more than the pain of the burning rain, the toes now blowing away.

That year Amy became pregnant with a child of our own. I was astounded. Probably not as astounded as Kyle and Maria. I think the idea of being actually connected bothered them, but it didn't stop Amy and I from having this baby.

When Amy was eight months pregnant, the Skins began the last chapter in their terror...the war. Every history book will have this war in it...if the war ever ends.

The four teenage aliens took it among themselves to go and fight. Even after four more came to their aid, I still went out with them. It was my duty. I can remember their pleas to me. They didn't want me out on the battle field, for my own sake. I was always glad they cared, but I had to go.

Amy had our daughter, Sophia, right on schedule. I wasn't there for it. I will regret that for the rest of my life.

Soon after Sophia was born, Isabel Evans had her child, Thomas. After that, Maria, my step-daughter was never the same girl I had known. She always talked about Isabel and Michael, when she spoke. She always spoke against them.

Then, Max and Tess, Isabel and Michael, were married in a double-wedding. I was the Best Man. That night, we partied. That would be the only way to put it.

The faces I saw over and over again were the aliens. I wanted to tell them, somehow, not to give up hope, to go on and fight without me--was I dying?--to tell them that good would prevail, because good always prevails, all the storybooks tell you, from the first story you can remember that your parents told you at night, good always wins. But my throat seemed to be ash.

Liz Parker had her own party with a bottle of vodka. She never took her eyes off of Max and Tess when they danced. Only made me wish that I could read minds.

Maria didn't come to the wedding, but Kyle, Amy, and Sophia did. That was one of the best days of my life. It was also the last time I saw my wife, my son, and my daughter.

*

The sun is rising now. It's almost completely risen. I glance at my watch. It's going onto six-thirty.

I wish I could see Amy again. Tell her that I loved her. Maybe that would shake off this feeling of dread that is hanging over my head.

I stand there alone at looking at the sun. "I love you, Amy. No matter what happens today, I'll always be there with you. I wish I could have been there for you more. I just hope that you know how I feel about you."

I stand there in my thoughts for a few more moments. I think about my children. I think of how much I love them,and I don't think that I'll be able to ever show them again. I regretted that so much. I could never tell them. I would never see them again. I know that I won't.

I wanted to see my son. He was my salvation for sixteen years, when no one else was there for me. I wanted to see my daughter. I hardly knew her. She was born and I wasn't there. I still cannot forgive myself for that.

"Kyle," I say softly. "Kyle...I love you. It was just you and me for so long. You're a grown man now, and you can make it without me. I just...I just want you to take care of Sophia, Sophia and Amy. And I hope that someday you'll have a family of your own to...to love the way I have all of you."

The dream had always ended there. I would wake up in a sweat, paralyzed with fear. But last night...Last night, I had watched myself turn to ash, watched the ash blow away in the wind. I saw it blow across the desert, across Roswell, across the people I had seen on the walls of the chasm. I saw Roswell without war, without Skins. I saw the people I loved happy and safe again.

And I had felt a peace like I had never known before.

I hear rustling from behind me. I see Max getting out of his tent. He looks like he hadn't slept at all that night. That poor boy. He's had to grow up so fast. He's twenty years old. He doesn't deserve this.

I look back at the sunrise. I thank God for making one joy within this hell. Going to Roswell would be another joy. Just to for a few minutes. I can't stop thinking about my family, the family that I love, there in Roswell, without me. I know I'll never see them again, and now, I can accept that.

Max walks over next to me. He places his hand on my shoulder. "Beautiful isn't it?" He says.

I nod. I look at the desert sunrise, staining the sky in orange and pink. Then I look at the boy--the man beside me. "Max..."

He looks me straight in the eye. I know he can see it too. I know he realizes what that day will hold for me.

And I know he feels my peace.

He turns back to face the eastern horizon again. I can see the tears glistening in his eyes. He takes a deep, calming breath before he speaks. "We've all had to make sacrifices in this battle," he says. "Some far greater than others."

I recognize his words for the goodbye they are. I, too, have to breathe carefully before replying. "And for some, they are not sacrifices. For some, they are honors."

"They're coming! I can see them...they're one their way from the next hill!" I hear Michael call, breaking the stress of the feelings in the air. "Get ready..."

I can see them coming now. They look so...lifeless. Like all they want to do is kill us all. And I believe that they do.