You live in a world of anthropomorphized animals. It was October 31st, 1993. Halloween Day. You weren't planning to go trick-or-treating, especially since you were eighteen. You were just strolling, seeing many kids with their parents in costumes, running toward houses and walking around with candy-filled bags. You were in front of a cafe when you saw your friend, DeAndre, the black cat, walk out. He looks at you, his mouth covered with his flannel scarf. He had a brown coat on and black pants. "Oh. Hey." He says, his red eyes looking up into yours. "I was just about to go get my little brother. He wants to trick-or-treat and he's ready to go." He says, unexcited. "Wanna come." It sounded more like he was telling you to come rather than asking you. DeAndre was always a pretty quiet guy, yes, but today he seemed almost angry or agitated, like someone or something was annoying him or just stuck in his mind and he couldn't stop thinking about it no matter how hard he tried not to. He started walking away, expecting you to either come with or go away.