Stan stepped into the shower and scrubbed the dried blood, dirt, and dead skin off of his body. The hot water burned his skin, but he didn't notice. He scrubbed all of the dirt and oil out of his hair. It had gotten so long. It flopped in his eyes. 'I guess I'll cut it when I get out,' he thought, rinsing soap off of his body. Red and brown water went down the drain and hair clogged it up.

Stan cut the water off and stepped out. He opened the cabinet under the sink, took out a white towel, and wrapped it around himself. Red stripes covered his left arm. He ran his fingers over them. Why? Why did he do it? He wanted to do it again..... It was like an addiction.

He walked into his room, where Kyle was sitting. Kyle looked at him—only a towel. He wanted so bad to go back to the carefree life of when they were kids.... He missed Kenny's company. He missed Butter's company. He even wanted Cartman back as a friend. He wanted to go back so badly. But he couldn't. He was nothing but a dirty little gay Jew.

Stan looked into Kyle's eyes and wandered what he was thinking. He looked so sad and confused. Then it came to him—Kyle missed the past. He sat down beside him and put his arm around him. "I miss it too, Kyle." he sighed. "I miss it too."

He thought very deeply about his childhood. His life was such a waste now. There's nothing you can do about it, the voice in his head told him. He just wished he could go back. Back before Wendy's death. Before he was a monster. He loved that girl more than anything in the world. More than life it's self. If he could just remember what had happened...

Tears blinded his crystal blue eyes and ran down his cheek. He remembered....