The time was 1942. The place was at a little theatre in Connecticut. Lorraine Moran followed Abby, Carla, and Lina to the box office, where a young man was taking money and handing out tickets.

   "Four for Bambi, please," Carla muttered, passing the combined change to the teenaged boy. He forgot his usual "Thanks," and "Here you go, I hope you enjoy," as he passed the tickets to her; a change in the demeanor of one of the girls caught his attention.

   "What was he staring at?" Carol questioned. She turned to look at whatever the man might've seen, but all she saw was Lorraine's blank expression. "Lorraine...are you okay?" she asked, waving her hand in front of the young psychic. "Well, I don't know about you three, but I'm not missing the film just because Angel Girl here is daydreaming." Carol left, taking Lina with her.

   Abby's brow furrowed. "Lorraine...I don't really want to miss the movie, either. You coming?" she questioned, giving Lorraine's right arm a gentle tug.

   "Hm?" she muttered. Her pupils went back to their normal size, like a camera coming into focus. "What'd I miss?"

   "Carol and Lina are already in the theater, Lorraine! If we don't hurry, we'll miss it!"

   Lorraine followed. By the time they'd used the restroom and got seated, the room began to darken. For the first five minutes, the teenaged Lorraine and her friends viewed propaganda for the current war. There was one recording of a famous male actor calling other men to action. Another was shown of various women working in factories as the "Rosie the Riveter" theme played behind them.

   Lorraine's father had already joined the war effort. She couldn't help but think of him every time she saw the posters plastered onto the buildings in town. Her mother stayed home to take care of her, and for that she was grateful, but they both missed her father dearly.

   "I wish they wouldn't show these before the film," Carol complained. The other three girls paid her no mind. They were all too busy considering the sacrifices their own parents had made for the country that was now involved in war.

   The film finally did start, rising whatever moods had been dampened. A calm tune eminated as credits appeared on the screen; for Lorraine, things were not so tranquil. A spark had popped into her mind. A fire was burning that she couldn't stop, and her heart was filled with dread.

   The young woman busted out of the theater. Gasps could be heard from the accompanying schoolgirls as she ran through the doors, nearly tripping over her own dress. "Fire," was all she could utter.

   There were screams of shock and pain. Men were being mowed down by the fire of the enemies weapons. Lorraine had never seen anything like this before. Tears threatened to spill from her blue gaze. There would be more pain and more death in years to come. She searched for her father in the throng, but did not see him, and relief trickled down her spine. In the back of her mind, she knew she was missing out on something, but she didn't care. The burdens of the world had been spilled upon her shoulders, and she was a helpless, fifteen-year-old girl who could barely hold her own.

   "Are you alright, Miss? You look a little pale-"

   A boy was standing in front of her, his face fuzzy and colorful. She could hardly make out his words...they sounded like thunder booming in her ears. The world went black, and she cursed- before falling to the ground, her eyes squeezed shut.

   Lorraine woke to feel water splashing her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she pushed the young man who was holding the bucket away. "What are you doing?!" she demanded, wiping her eyes vigorously.

   "Something- something I read about in the paper," he admitted, blushing with embarrassment.

   She blinked. "I- what happened?"

   "You don't remember? You fainted- passed out."

   "So what, you thought that giving me a shower would help make it better?"

   "Now, wait just a minute," he growled defensively. "You're the one that fainted. Would you have preferred it if I just let you lay there?"

   Lorraine taken aback by his words. She glanced around to see that none of her friends had left the showroom; no one had even stopped to see if she was okay. "Well- I- I don't know what to say."

   "An apology would suffice," he replied, taking her hand.

   For a second, something blocked Lorraine's vision. An object had been placed on her head, and she lifted her hand to feel a rough, white veil. She gazed down at a puffy, white sleeves and an equally white dress that touched the floor. You'll be a beautiful bride, her mother chimed.

   Upon gaining her balance, Miss Moran jerked her palm away from the young man's soothing grasp. "Are you sure you're alright?" he'd asked.

   "I'm okay, thank you. I believe I should go finish the movie now, goodbye-"

   "Wait, aren't you at least going to tell me your name?"

   She paused. "I'm Lorraine. Lorraine Moran."

   "I'm Edward- Ed. My name is Edward, but my friends call me Ed."

   "That's a strong name," she responded, attempting to make conversation.

   "I'm sorry that I got you all wet, and that I startled you. I was only trying to help."

   She smiled. "It's okay, Ed. I'm glad that someone was here to retrieve me."

   He backed away, giving her some space. "Well...I'd better get going," he said. "If my boss finds out that I stopped working, he'll have my hide. I'm sure I'll see you around, Lorraine." He'd said, waving goodbye.

   Lorraine sighed. She stumbled back into the crowded theater, ignoring the agitated groans of the people sitting behind her. "What did I miss?" she asked in a whisper.

   Abby was the first to respond. "Not much. Bambi's made friends with a cute little bunny called Thumper and a skunk called," she chuckled, "Flower."

   Lorraine glanced up at the screen. A little doe was prancing around an equally small buck; she licked his cheek, and he blushed sweetly.