Chapter 1

>You are awaken, rather suddenly, this time by a familiar, persistent tone
>Your alarm rings at its scheduled time, 6:30 AM, ignorant to the now gloomy atmosphere of the bedroom
>With a sigh, you slam your fist down on the snooze button
>You force yourself to the side of the bed and rub your eyes
>They're still moist from earlier, that's for sure
>A few hours had passed since your rather uneventful awakening
>You had bawled your eyes out for at least twenty minutes, you figure
>As unrealistic as that sounds, you're almost positive that you managed to achieve it
>Your tear ducts were begging for mercy at that point
>The rest of the time you spent sleeping
>You were shocked to find that you could actually sleep
>But you figure that it was better than sitting and moping about Firefox
>Turning your head to the end of your bed, you take notice that the scrapbook has not moved an inch from where you left it
>You were a pretty restless sleeper, coupled with talking in your sleep
>You remember Firefox telling you that she actually had a conversation with you while you were asleep
>You always brought up a lot of stupid things while sleep talking
>Such as how the Hamburglar was the real cause of 9/11
>And even a few more... personal things... you would've rather kept to yourself
>It was like you were drunk whenever you talked in your sleep
>You shake your head as the memory brings a smile to your face, something that, in this atmosphere, was considered foreign
>Your eyes meet the scrapbook again
>Your smile fades now, but is not completely invisible
>With a sigh, you reach over and grab the scrapbook
>The cover had a bit of a rough feeling, but that didn't bother you nor Firefox
>Besides, the memories inside your head were a lot rougher than the ones in this damn scrapbook
>Those were harder to throw away than a scrapbook filled with pictures, though
>Doing your best to push the war going on inside your head away, you turn the front cover of the scrapbook
>You are instantly assaulted with the feeling as though you should close the book again
>The feels are too much for your fragile mental stature to handle
>But you soldier on
>You sit there, for what seems like forever, looking at that one picture
>But this one is special
>It is the one that started it all
>In the picture was you, your mother, your ex-girlfriend and Firefox--a younger Firefox, at that
>Well no shit, the picture was from 2002, you were all younger looking
>A memory slips through the frontlines of the warzone and invades your thinking, allowing a crisp and clear view of what happened after
>It was Firefox's first interaction with a camera
>Back in that day, you didn't really know how to turn off the flash on your mother's camera
>Although Firefox looked calm and collected in the picture, you remember what happened right after the flash
>You remember every little detail--scratch that--literally everything during that fateful day
>Your emotions are demanding that you dishonorably discharge the thought
>You just want to admire the pictures in the scrapbook
>Instead, your brain gives it the Medal of Honor
>You give up
>There's no use in fighting against what you truly wanted to do
>Even if you had a hard time admitting it
>Returning your gaze to the photo, a sudden, yet familiar realization comes over you:
>Simply put, you may not be where you are now if the events that preceeded this picture did not come into play
>With that thought in tow, you become lost in the flood of memories that invade your brain
>And it starts with one

---

>You are Anon
>You have just finished unloading your things from your mother's truck
>You originally had to carry them up five floors, but thankfully an elevator alleviated that problem
>Your apartment number was also just a few steps to the right of the elevator, which you didn't complain about
>You didn't own very many things to your name, which made the unloading process easier
>An Xbox, a small television (which weighed a metric shit-ton), a lot of clothes and your bed was all you really had
>Your mother was nice enough to go out the other night and purchase a lot of the basics in which you would need
>Not to mention that she was paying your first three month's rent
>She supplied you with some toilet paper, paper towels, silverware, some shit to fill your refrigerator, a few paintings that your eldest brother had created to hang on your wall, and a few other things
>You had looked over your box-filled apartment and smiled
>Graduating high school has to be one of the best things that has happened to you
>Or so you hope
>You had done a quick mental check-list to assure yourself the above was indeed a fact
>It granted you a chance to find a good, honest-paying job
>It granted you the ability to be successful, unlike your father
>But you don't really like to talk about him
>All he does is smoke and drink anyhow--what a way to retire, huh?
>But you digress
>These boxes were not going to unpack themselves
>You were also thankful that you did not have to purchase any appliances
>The previous tenant left in a hurry, from what the owner of the apartment complex told you
>He had regurgitated the same sob story he was told by the tenant to not pay last month's rent
>Something about a job on the east coast that would get him known and popular
>Apparently the landowner, along with all of his friends, thought otherwise
>At that point, you had stopped listening to the story, you were too excited
>Owning free, operating expensive shit with no strings attached was the tits
>Once you were set up, your mother left you alone, in your own place, for the first time in your life
>Although you weren't exactly scared, you couldn't deny that you were a bit stressed out
>You had expressed this to your mother right before she left
>She had told you not to worry, as she was just a phone call away
>Thankfully, she was only a thirty-minute drive away from your new home
>All of this was five hours ago
>You are sitting on your couch, staring at the blank television
>You must have passed out or something
>There's no way you would have been staring at this damn TV for 5 hours
>You could probably hook up your Xbox and play some Halo: CE
>But that would imply some sort of effort being made
>Fuck it, it's not you're doing anything important anyways
>You might as well go outside and get some fresh air, go out for a bite to eat
>Or you could not be an anti-social faggot and go meet some people
>You decide on that latter
>You grab your jacket from the coat rack and your keys from the counter next to the rack
>Within seconds, you're out the door, ready to go meet some new people
>When your mother told you that you this apartment was in the bad part of town, you thought she was talking about the people
>It turns out that this area is just the "shoddier" part of town
>But you lived in a decent apartment complex, so you weren't complaining
>You climb down the five flights of stairs leading to the outside of the building
>You figure you might as well get a workout too, while you were out
>As you walk a little too eagerly towards the door, a receptionist that you noticed when you were unloading your things earlier waves at you
>She seems like a nice girl, just about your age, you figure
>You wave back
>But not before running face-first into a wall just a few inches to the left of the door
>You fall flat on your ass, confused as hell, but surprisingly, you're not hurt
>Physically, that is
>Your pride felt like it just got a hernia
>A delayed gasp escapes the receptionist's mouth as she runs over to you and helps you to your feet
>You could have sworn you heard a chuckle punctuate through her lips 
>At this point, you might as well just hand in your man card
>Seeing a grown man fall on his ass might have been pretty funny to watch, so you let the laugh slide
>Ashamed, you slowly push open the door
>A familiar hand makes contact with your shoulder and turns your body the opposite direction
>The receptionist is now a few feet away from you
>You didn't really like it when people got close to you
>But you don't mind this girl's company
>You notice that there is a jubilant aura that emitted from her; you could feel it warming up the whole room
>Including yourself
>You smile at the girl's jubilance
>But you realize that she isn't wearing a face of bliss like you assumed
>Instead, it was replaced with sadness
>Hell, if you didn't know any better, you would say that she looked a bit... guilty
>"I'm soooooo sorry. Please don't be mad at me, I didn't mean to hurt you!"
>That was the only thing you heard amidst the barrage of "sorry" you were currently receiving
>You raise your right index finger close to your mouth to signal her to quiet down
>Her voice stops dead in her tracks, and instantly you can make out the beginnings of a tear welling up in her beautiful green eyes
>You put her down easy, assuring her that this was one-hundred percent your fault
>She tried calling your bluff, but you are not in the mood for that
>You pull out the trump card; you were not having any more of this
"What do I have to do prove to you that this is my fault?"
>You didn't mean to have a harsh tone to your words, but god damnit, you sure had one
>Her demeanor looks as though it is about to collapse
>For fuck's sake Anon, your first interaction with another human being is not going to ruin your day today
>You sigh
"Look..."
>You see a name-tag positioned slightly above her left breast
>Her name is Mellissa
"...Mellissa. I'm sorry for my tone. I'm just... really stressed out about the new move. I just graduated from high school, and this is my first time really being on my own."
"I let my emotions get the best of me, and I am truly sorry for that. Just please, don't cry."
>You can see that her emotional state seemed to become lessed depressed, but she wanted more
>Damn women
"If you want..." [spoiler][/spoiler]>You sign a sigh that is riddled with defeat,[spoiler][/spoiler] "...I suppose we could go somewhere to eat? It's a win-win situation for both you and me."
>You were not expecting a smile THAT big
>In fact, you are one-hundred percent positive that she expended all of her energy into her mouth muscles just for that smile
>She hugs you with one of the biggest hugs you've ever received in your life
>Of course, you had at least seven inches of height on her, so you had to bend down to return the hug
>Her nametag was poking you, digging down into your skin
>You just hope that Mr. Johnson didn't poke into her during your embrace
>After a few seconds, she pushes away from the hug, squealing like a mad-woman
>You cover your face with your right hand, shaking your head in disbelief
"I take that as a yes then?"
>She nods her head up and down furiously, her burgundy hair reacting rapidly to the movement
>It wasn't quite a headbang, but it was getting there, that's for sure
>"I know just the place we can go!"
>Her face changed, once again, from a smile to a frown
>At least this time, the frown wasn't as bad as the one before it
>"I have work until six, so if you wouldn't mind sticking around until then, I'd really appreciate it... umm..."
>You notice her thinking face
>She's so god damn adorable
>It was like being in a pet-shop
>She returns her gaze to you
>"You know what, Mr. Man, I didn't even catch your name."
>She said that mockingly, of course
"Oh, you might as well call me Anon, seeing as that's what everyone else calls me."
>Her face turns into one of confusion, causing your feels to call it quits for the day
>"Anon, as in Anonymous?"
>You are surprised at how fast she catches on
"Yeah."
>"I'm not even going to ask why."
"I appreciate that, thanks."
>You are now following Melissaback to the receptionist's desk
>Look at you, Anon, already making friends
>Your mother would be so proud
>That makes you smirk ever so slightly
>You're sure that Melissacaught on to that, but she doesn't really seem to care
"So, Mellissa, where do you live at?"
>Fuck, why would you ask that
>"I actually live right here in the complex. Third floor, apartment number 343."
>"You live on the fifth floor, right?" 
>You nod your head in understanding
>She seems to hesitate a bit at that
>"Sorry if I seem a bit nosy... I just want to get to know you. You seem like a pretty cool guy, you know?"
>No, actually, you didn't know
>You let out a reassuring chuckle, in which you can feel it melt away the tension from the conversion
"It's fine, Mellissa. You don't have to worry about anything sounding odd around me--I've heard worse in my lifetime, I assure you."
>You thought the earlier smile couldn't be topped
>You were obviously wrong
>She comforts you with another hug
>This time, you hug back a bit harder than before
>This girl seems to alleviate your tensions just by being in the room
>She was using a perfume, which helped with the tensions as well
>It smelled a bit like... lavender
>Or like cotton candy
>You couldn't accurately pinpoint the aroma, but it didn't matter
>She's still hugging you
>It's been about thirty seconds since the hug began
>A small mutter could be heard, but nothing that was audible
>That's when you feel it
>Something wet on your chest, actively soaking your jacket
>Melissagently eases away from the hug, her eyes literally soaked in compressed tears
>Your good-guy nature immediately kicks in
"Mellissa, what's wrong?"
>She sniffles, making it obvious to you that she didn't intend on crying
>"You just remind me of a good friend of mine who passed away recently, that's all."
>You counted at least three audible chokes of melancholy in that one sentence
>Stepping back to give her some composure, she takes some deep breaths
>And within a few seconds, she begins laughing
>How in the hell can she do that
>You wave the thought off
"You are really something different, you know that?"
>"You're rude."
>She puts on a huge grin, and motions you to sit in a chair next to the desk
>"And just for that, you're going to sit here and tell me ALL about yourself until I get off for work."
>You look up at the clock
>5:15 PM
>It's going to be a long talk
>And with that, you sit down, opening the doors to your thoughts
>You were such a sucker for pretty women

---

>You are Anon forty-five minutes into the future
>You have just learned a TON about Mellissa, from where she grew up to her high-school graduation
>She also learned a lot about you
>Even some things you would have rather kept to yourself
>But you feel you could trust Melissaone-hundred percent, without a doubt in your mind
>And now you were walking her to her room like a good little boy
>At least, that was what she called you
>You were just being nice, considering she's your only friend in this town
>And she just happens to be the opposite sex
>You don't let that bother you though
>Eventually, you both reach the third floor door with the chipped-paint and rusted handle
>Melissatells you that she has put in a work order for that door ever since she was hired here back in October of 2001
>The landlord was a good man, she assured you, but he never really got to work unless you shoved money in his face
>All the while, you are trying to get this damned handle to open the door
>Melissapushes you aside and with a profession twist of her wrist, the door opens in mere seconds as opposed to how long it would have taken you
>She sticks a tongue out at you as you let the door close behind you
>You were not prepared for the loud thud that came a few seconds after
>You nearly jumped out of your shoes, but thankfully you did not
>After a couple of steps forward, you two arrive at her apartment
>Apartment No. 343
>Check those nubs
>What the fuck are nubs
>Stop it
>Melissahas opened up the door and is now inside, all the while you stand there trying to think of whatever the fuck nubs are
>Listen here, motherfucker
>She turns around and tells you to meet her downstairs in fifteen minutes while she gets dressed
>You nod your head and assure her of your punctuality
>When her apartment door closes on you, you make your way back to the loud, cursed staircase door and head up the last two flights of stairs to your apartment
>You didn't really need to be up here
>And with that, you were down in the lobby, sitting in the same chair as before, reading a magazine
>You could hear the sound of shoes hitting the cast-iron staircase that lead from the second floor to the first floor
>Melissapushed open the door to the staircase and was out of her drab-green uniform and in some normal clothes
>You could see a relieved look flood her face when she walked up to you, hand extended past the magazine
>"Are you ready to go, Anon?"
>"God, Anon has such an... interesting ring to it, don't ya think?"
>You hadn't really thought of that before
>But you digress, placing down the magazine and replacing it with Mellissa's smooth hand
>With that, you two were out the door, heading out to whatever place Melissawanted you to go
>After a few minutes of walking and talking, you arrive at the place Melissawas talking about
>Custard Cup, a local custard/ice cream that has apparently been around for years, she assured you
>As you two walk into the establishment, a bell that is attached to the door rings out, alerting everyone to your presence
>A few customers turned around and gave you the stank eye
>Oh boy, here we go
>Melissapushes you forward to the nearest avaiable counter and whispers in your ear what she wants
>You were greeted with an ear-splitting, voice cracking teenage voice who came from the girl behind the counter who looked a few years younger than yourself
"Umm... hi. I'd like two scoops of vanilla custard in a cone, while my friend here would like two scoops of strawberry in a cone."
>The girl writes down your order with amazing quickness and accuracy
>You were surprised that you didn't fuck up your order like you normally do in public places
>"Will that be all for you two today, sir?"
"Yes ma'am, that'll be it."
>After you pay the ridiculous fee of eight dollars for four scoops of custard, you two are walking back the way you came
>The sun was beginning to set on this cool July night, and you two hurry your pace back to the apartment complex
>Among the rush, you notice a building that you did not see when you were walking to Custard Cup
>A Game-X-Change sign greeted your presence as you stop to stare inside the unfinished building
>A sign next to the one that greeted you confirmed your suspicions:
>"Coming to your town in December 2002!"
>The sight and knowledge that there would indeed be a video-game business a few hundred yards from your apartment gave you a comforting feeling
>You signal Melissato continue forward, with yourself following slowly behind
>As you pass an alley that separated the future Game-X-Change and a local jewellry store, a gust of wind whistled in your ears
>But this gust of wind did not seem... normal
>It had a high-pitched squeal to it, like Melissa made, except extremely hushed
>You were now at a complete stop and facing the alley, with Melissa attempting to egg you on towards the apartment complex
>But you were sure that there was something in the alley
>You commanded Melissa to stay next to the Game-X-Change as fatherly-instinct took over
>There was, from what little daylight that remained revealed to you, a dumpster, a few trash cans, and a lot of folded cardboard boxes
>The wind had died down at this point, but you were determined to figure out what was causing that noise
>As you step closer, the wind suddenly picked up and became stronger
>How was that possible? You could have sworn that the wind had died down before
>You disregard it and inch closer to the dumpster
>And that's when you notice it
>There was a strange, orange glow emitting from behind the dumpster
>As eager as you were to figure out why that was there, the wind became stronger
>You turn your head around enough to see that Melissa had a worried look on her face
>You pushed on until the wind became too strong for you to handle
>How is nobody else noticing the fucking hurricane-force winds inside this alley?
>The orange glow has now completely enveloped the entire back of the alley, you gather
>And just like that, the wind died down
>But not before a sudden burst of it Falcon-Punches you in the chest and forces you back a few feet, making you fall on your ass
>You could hear Melissa's cries of worry become louder as she runs towards you
>You manage to get back on your feet somehow
>The orange glow has subsided, replacing itself with an obnoxiously-loud ringing in your ears, what luck
>Finally you reach behind the dumpster
>And at that point, you are not sure if you should turn around and run, or stay
>There was, at least what your eyes are showing you, an orange... thing, that seemed to be on fire
>You rub your eyes in astonishment, and soon Melissa is by your side, wearing the same mask of emotion as you are
>After a few seconds, you slowly realize that this "thing" actually was a baby horse
>Not exactly a baby though, as it seemed to almost be an adult
>Judging by the size of its hips and its muzzle, you determine its sex to be female
>You give it another quick look, and notice that she was not on fire, but instead, the fire was coming from her mane
>But there was one detail that you did not notice among all of the others
>A closer examination revealed that it was a tattoo on the mare's flank
>The tattoo was comprised of a globe, with what seemed to be fire trailing around it
>You could have sworn that you've seen this somewhere before
>You ask Melissa if she's ever seen something like the tattoo on that mare's flank
>She reciprocates the same answer
>Wait a minute...
>You do know this mark
>You had read it in the magazine you were reading in the lobby
>Something about a new browser being released to the public soon
>You whisper to yourself:
"Firefox..."