Background Information on Voodoo: Remember that dream sequence from chapter 3? You might want to go back and reread it, because that was the dream I had way back when I was still writing Speechless. I used it as my inspiration to write this, and it was supposed to be my second story, but shit happened and I wrote See You Again second.

You know how I said that you're all going to love this chapter? I lied.

I stared at him for a couple of seconds—though it really seemed like forever—and I knew he was very serious. I didn't say anything back, and eventually just turned away and began walking in the other direction.

"Kyle, wait!" Stan chased after me. "Where are you going?"

I stopped so abruptly he nearly ran into me and I turned around to yell; "I'm going home, Stan!" Then I continued to walk away. I really was going to go home, then probably crawl under my bedcovers and shake in disparity, but the hallway door I was going to use closed in front of me. "Stan, unlock the door." I said turning back to him, he just flicked his finger at all the other exits and they locked too.

"Not before I talk to you, Kyle." He said forcefully, then took a step toward me. "Just hear me out—"

"You want me to hear you out?" I asked. "For fucks sake, Stan! You told me not to make potions anymore! You asked me why I do this to myself and this is why! I was so careful—so fucking careful!—because I didn't want you to find out! I didn't want you to know about the love potions, and I especially didn't want you to ever ask me for one!" I yelled. "That's why!"

"Kyle," He said, coming closer again, "I'm doing this for—" He stopped mid-sentence. "I'm doing this for the greater good."

I didn't yell anymore, I was to surprised by his reply to yell anything back, so instead I just said, "The greater good? What greater good? There isn't anything good or great about this."

He looked a little uncomfortable now, "It's to help you out Kyle; I swear if you do this you won't make another potion ever again."

Now he was lying poorly, but I wasn't angry, I was just kind of giving up. I looked at the tile floor as I spoke, "Really? You're asking me this to help me?" I looked up at him and stared him in the eye. "Because all it sounds like is you trying to help yourself."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to think of something to say, but I didn't give him enough time before I turned around and walked back over to an exit and tried to jiggle the knob, but it was still locked.

"Can you unlock the door?" I asked.

He didn't at first so I looked back at him, he still didn't look like he had much to say. "Kyle, please, you just have to trust me." He pleaded, and I kind of felt weird. Like I was the one being selfish. "I know you have a lot of reasons not to; I know a lot of other people who've asked you haven't been all that honest, and I know you're afraid of what I'm going to do with it but… Believe me when I say that I'm only doing this to help you."

I turned my whole body around to face him, and I sighed, "Is it for Wendy?" I asked. "Do you think that using a potion on her will really solve anything? I've seen what happens when too many people get involved with one person." I said, thinking of Red. "Cartman will kill you." He didn't say anything. "It… is for Wendy, isn't it?"

He looked up awkwardly, "Y-yeah, dude, it's for Wendy."

I sighed again; my nightmare had come true. I really, really, really didn't want to make Stan a love potion, but I knew if I didn't he'd think I was a dick and probably wouldn't talk to me again. Why should it bother me anyway? Cartman could only keep them apart for so long, and if they really were meant for each other—which by now I was certain of—then I'd be a dick for not helping them. Even still, though, it made me want to vomit blood.

My hand was on the door handle again, and I could feel Stan had unlocked it, but I didn't try to leave this time, "I guess I can make you this one." I said.

Stan immediately went temporarily speechless with surprise, then brightened saying; "Dude, thank you so much! You won't regret this!"

I was halfway out the door by that time, and as the door was closing on him I breathed, "Yeah. Sure."

It snowed as I walked home alone, and no one answered the door when I got to my house. I had left my key in the basement last night, so I stood outside trying to pick the lock with magic for ten minutes before I actually got in. At least I got in. I dropped my bag by the door and took my notebook down to the basement after checking the messages on the message machine. I had three more requests in the waiting, and now Stan, so I added them all to the list I had made.

Five potion requests not including Stan. I hardly recognized anyone's name on the list. I decided while putting on my facemask that I was going to make Stan's potion tonight, and that was it. The other five I could do on Saturday and Sunday.

Sammy had come to be kind of immune to the potion fumes—I remember him passing out for a few minutes the first time I made the potion, but it hasn't happened since—but fumes are much more toxic on people. I'll probably never grow immune to them.

I was thinking a lot about Stan and Wendy when I was making the potion… thinking about how Cartman is probably going to murder him, and how I was going to lose my last chance of ever being with Stan. Wendy's going to go from being Cartman's slave to Stan's slave and all hell will break loose. At least Wendy won't be punching me again anytime soon; she'll just do whatever Stan asks without hesitation.

I froze halfway making the potion at what I just realized. This was a zombie potion. If Stan was under the power of a love potion, he wouldn't even think about using one on somebody else; he'd do whatever I'd tell him to. Screw what I said before about how using love potions is pitiful; this is for the greater good. And… even if the love potion is irreversible… Stan won't realize he's being forced into this. He'll be happy. Maybe.

I decided I was going against my principles, and I had to use a love potion on Stan. I almost burst out in maniacal laughter at the thought. I… wanted to do this! I was genuinely excited. But, at the same time, I still knew it was wrong, but I really didn't care.

I quickly finished the love potion to give to him that he would never end up using, and started the second one. All I have to do is get him to drink it before he uses his on Wendy… this shouldn't be too hard. I'll call him tomorrow morning and ask him to come over. I'll give him his love potion then ask if he wants to stay and play video games. Later I'll just get him a glass of water or something and everything will be fine.

The next morning did not go as planned. First of all, I didn't call Stan; he called me.

I had woken up about ten and was eating breakfast when the phone started ringing. My mom picked it up and handed it to me, "Hello?" I asked into the phone.

"Dude, Kyle, good morning." Stan said.

"Oh." I had expected it to be someone else asking for a love potion so I was mildly surprised. "Hey, what's up?"

He lowed his voice to a whisper, "Did you finish the you-know-what?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, it's done. Did you want to come over and pick it up?" I asked.

"Uh, no…" He said. "How about we meet at Tweak Bros. and we exchange there?"

"Why?"

"Just because." Was his answer, and I found it a little unsatisfying. "I'll see you there at noon, okay? Bye!" Then he hung up.

He didn't even give me enough time to say 'goodbye'. Oh well. I put the phone down on the table and continued to eat my cereal. Seriously, what's up with him lately? I know he cared about me, he kind of had since the outburst Thursday night about how the potions need to stop. Then the very next day he himself asked me for one. Besides the obvious, I've been getting these feelings that he didn't really want to hang out much anymore since we haven't been hanging out—or we have been hanging out and it's just always gone horribly wrong. We don't talk during class or lunch and he just doesn't seem to want to be friends anymore.

It made my heart sink a little; maybe we're drifting apart after so long. It's the entire love potion's fault. I swear; no more potions from now on.

My parents didn't bother with asking me where I was going at 11:30, I just called, "I'll be home before dinner!" as I ran out the door and that was that. I currently wasn't snowing at the moment, which I was glad for because otherwise the two potions in my pocket might have frozen over. Walking from my house to downtown doesn't take too long, and for that I was glad, because even though it wasn't snowing I was still freezing my ass off under my bright orange jacket.

No one else was walking this time of day; how boring. But, hey—my life was kind of boring right now too. Go to school, go home, make love potions, drama, drama, drama, and the cycle starts over. . But right now I was anything but bored; I could feel it in the tips of my shaking, cold fingers that good or bad my life—or at least my life until I go to Middle School—will be significantly different once I use this potion on Stan.

Finally—and by god, do I mean finally—I got to Tweak Bros. and stepped inside. There were quite a few people here, of course because it was warm, inviting, and the only place to get coffee for twenty miles in all directions. I noticed Stan already sitting at a table as I took off my coat and hung it with the others by the door. He noticed me too and walked over.

"Hey dude," He started off saying, "cold, isn't it?"

"Sure is, Caption Obvious." I managed while my teeth chattered and I threw my hands into my pants pockets to keep warm.

"You brought the potion?" He asked suddenly.

"Yeah." I reached into my pocket and took out one of the two and handed it to him. "Knock yourself out." I said smiling in my knowledge that he wasn't going to be able to ever use it. "So why'd you want to meet here anyway?"

I walked over with him as he led me to the counter after putting the potion in his pocket, "Well, you're always talking about how you need a vacation, and I figured you might have wanted me to be there too."

I smiled confidently for the first time in a long time, "You're the only one who ever talks about me taking a vacation." I corrected.

He ordered us two hot chocolate while I gawked at the sugary baked goods behind glass that I couldn't afford because Stan was the only on who brought money. We sat back down at his table and sat waiting in silence besides the conversations of the people around us until our order was called. I volunteered to get our cups, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to ad the potion to Stan's at the counter because someone would notice, and I couldn't do it while walking back to the table because I only had two hands.

I was at the counter and the guy called our order again incase we hadn't had heard, and I saw it was Tweek standing behind the counter calling orders looking less stressed out than usual.

"Hey Tweek." I said while grabbing the cups, planning just to exchange the hello the get back to Stan, be he replied.

"Voodoo Kyle!" He exclaimed recognizing me, I made an awkward face; people really have to stop calling me that. "What are doing here?" He asked like his life depended on it.

About looking less stressed out than usual; I take it back. "I'm just hanging out with Stan." I said. "What's up?"

He fiddled with the bottom of his apron, "Just kind of anxious to get off shift…" He said.

"Why is that?"

He pointed a shaky finger past me at one of the tables, "Craig's been waiting since we opened this morning."

I turned around in horror and in slow-motion. I hadn't noticed Craig sitting at one of the window seats until now; he was looking over at Stan watching him tapping out the rhythm of a song on the table with his fingers. A second later he glanced over at me and I knew he knew what I was trying to do.

I quickly grabbed the cups of hot chocolate-y beverage and walked back over to my table scared stiff by the fact that I could feel Craig's stare on me the entire time. I sat down in front of Stan and set down our cups uneasily on the table which he noticed.

"Dude, you okay?" He asked, I just nodded, and he got up. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, I'll be back in a minute." Then he left me sitting there in the open completely vulnerable.

My eyes shifted so slowly to the left so just to glimpse at Craig for half a second and I saw he was still watching me. I started to sweat; a perfect opportunity like this comes around, and he can't just look away for one FUCKING SECOND. I glanced back at him again, but didn't look away. He was just waiting to see what unfolded with a kind of amused—but at the same time still dully apathetic stare on his face—and I flipped him off to give him the message. He just did the same back to me then turned to Tweek who was now sweeping the floor around his area to talk.

Without the pressure of him, or anyone else, watching now I easily reached across the table, grabbed Stan's cup and held it under the table so no one would see. I uncorked the jar and emptied it into his drink, then put the cup back on the table in front of Stan's seat. No going back now.

Even after that it had to be a few minutes before Stan even came back, what was taking him? Actually thinking about it; lacing his drink was kind of too easy. I still couldn't believe no one had actually noticed and that Stan was taking so long. It was just kind of… weird.

Eventually Stan came back and took his seat, "Sorry it took a while, there was a line." He said, then picked up his cup.

I almost accidentally tried to stop him out of instinct, but I managed to stop myself before I did anything stupid, "Stan, I—" I said after he had put down the cup and he looked up at me.

"What?" He asked, and I stared at him in the eyes waiting to see if they would dilate, but they didn't. "Something the matter?"

"You don't… feel anything out of the ordinary?" I asked; I was the first person he looked at, and I tested the potion multiple times on Sammy to make sure it wouldn't kill him, but nothing seemed to be happening at all.

He made a weird face then looked down into his hot chocolate, "Well, now that you've mentioned it, I think the cocoa tasted a little different than last weekend, like they added something else or the milk went bad."

I suddenly felt really worried; the potion didn't work, why didn't it work? I grabbed his cup and looked at it myself, then stood. "I'll throw this away for you, dude, it's un-drinkable." And I took the drink over to the trash and tossed it.

Before I walked back over I checked on Craig again; he was still sitting by himself sipping some hot drink and eyeing me conspicuously. I tried to ignore the stare and the unsettling feeling of why the potion didn't work on Stan.

I went back over and sat back down and picked up my own cup slowly and brought it to my mouth, and I noticed before I tipped it back and closed my eyes that Stan was watching me very closely the entire time.

"Kyle?" He asked when I was almost done, and I pulled the cup away and opened my eyes to look at him.

"What?" I asked, swallowing then tasting around my mouth the strange aftertaste that kind of reminded me of… nutmeg.

He examined me from his seat, "Was yours bad too?" He asked eventually.

I looked back down at my cup thinking about the extra flavor; "Yeah, maybe, I think so… it kind of tasted—"

"Nutty?" He asked finishing my sentence for me, and I had to nod. "Well."

We didn't say anything else and just kind of sat there together awkwardly as I heard Craig burst into laughter from across the café. I didn't really understand what was so funny besides the fact that he knew I used my potion on Stan and he wasn't making goo-goo eyes at me—by the way, that would be totally creepy.

I got up soon enough to throw out my strange cocoa, then walked toward the door seeing as there was nothing left for me to do here, "Kyle, wait!" Stan got up and followed me. "Where are you going?" He asked.

"I'm going home dude, I'm not really in that great of a mood right now. I have to go home and sort things out." I said while walking out the door into the freezing cold.

"Didn't you want to hang out longer?" He asked still in the doorway holding it partially open, and I stopped as I was about to hop off the curb into the gutter.

Why did I think this would work? Why did I ever believe for a second that Stan could ever like me? I didn't say anything as I continued walking, and he didn't stop me. I walked home as slowly as I could dragging my feet in the slushy, dirty snow, and I was certain it was going to start snowing any minute because of how dark the sky was, but by the time I was home a single flake hadn't fallen.

I didn't go down to my basement like I usually did; instead I sat up in my room on my bed. The only light was dull, ghostly glow leaking through my blinds from outside laying on my covers and the left half of my body. I sat in the almost darkness so long I heard the inconsistent tap of rain on my window. It was the only sound echoing through the house, not even my parents and Ike downstairs made any noise.

I was sitting with my knees up to my nose not really thinking about anything in particular to keep myself from thinking those dark thoughts I had locked in the back of my mind since the day Christophe threatened to decapitate me. I perked my head up at the sound of our doorbell.

It had been a couple hours since the incident at Tweak Bros. and I didn't think Stan would have come by this late. It was probably someone from school asking for a love potion. I heard shifting downstairs as someone got up, then the door opening.

"Oh, hello Stanley, Kyle's up in his room." I heard my mom say. "He seems really upset about something. You should go talk to him."

"Okay." I heard Stan's voice. Why did he have to come?

I didn't want him to see my room full of used tissues littering the floor from past laments. …God, I am way too formal when I talk. I'll talk to him down in the basement.

I could hear him coming up the stairs and approach my door, but he felt like he was a world away. That's probably why I was so surprised when I heard his say, "Kyle? Dude, can we talk?" I pulled one of my pillows around and pulled it into my chest as he continued to talk to me through the door. "It's important, can I come in?" I clutched it closer to me, he just opened the door himself. "Dude?"

"Can we talk in the basement?" I asked, not looking up.

"Sure."

I got up slowly and he waited as I exited my bedroom then followed me down the stairs. My parents didn't bother us as we headed for the basement; they were too busy watching the five o'clock news with Ike. Stan closed the basement door behind us and I stopped in front of my potion table.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked, expecting it to be about why I so suddenly left at the café.

"It didn't work." He simply said once he had descended down all the stairs. I turned around to face him and so he would expand on what he meant. "The love potion, Kyle, I… I used it after you left, and it didn't work."

I looked down at the floor; "Yours didn't work either?" I said more than asked. "But then did…" I trailed off.

He took a step toward me, "But then what?" He asked, but I didn't say anything. "Kyle?" He asked more frantically. "What would have happened?"

"If it didn't work…" I was playing with my fingers. "Then Wendy would have died."

"Wendy?" He asked, making me look up, then said. "Wait, they could have died?" I didn't answer him; how could I? He could have just killed the girl he likes because of me. "Kyle, what the hell is going on! You're trying to tell me love potions can kill people!"

"I… I thought you knew." Was all I could manage at the moment.

"That means I could have killed—" He said cutting himself off.

"WENDY! I know!" I yelled at him.

He took another step toward me to where he was so close I tried backing up but hit the table, "Kyle, why did you do this? Why when you know people will be hurt!" He demanded.

"I did it for you!" I screamed at him. "I did everything for you, because I—" I ended up choking on my words and couldn't force the rest out; he couldn't know. He just couldn't know.

"Because you what!" He asked desperately, making me turn partially so I wouldn't have to look at him, but I didn't have enough room so I threw up my arm to keep him from getting closer. "Why?" He asked, grabbing my left wrist and squeezing it so I'd answer.

I screamed at the pain of his fingers pressing into my unhealed and reopened cuts on my wrists, "Let go of me!" I yelled. "Let go of my fucking wrist!"

He noticed my pain was coming from under my sock glove and removed from my wrist as my other hand fell on the table to support my body, but landed on my knife; knocking it to the floor. He looked from the large knife that had dropped on the ground to my wrist, rubbing his thumb over the cuts while taking them in making me wince. He immediately put two and two together.

"You're cutting yourself?" He asked, no longer in a loud, demanding voice, but barely a whisper. I tore my hand from his grasp and picked up the knife putting it back on the table. "You're cutting yourself!" He repeated louder now. "Are you serious! Kyle, what—what the fuck!" He yelled, making me cringe as I continued walking behind my table just to get away from him and imagine he'd disappear. "Don't you realize how dangerous this is! How stupid this is!"

I sank down to the floor with my knees up to my nose again and I didn't hold anything back and just bawled. I was too choked up to say anything in reply.

"Why the fuck did you do this!" He just continued to spew. "I knew it was bad, I knew it was really fucking bad, but this is outrageous!" He walked over to me and tried to get me to stand up. "You could die! Is that what you want!" Eventually I stood and I really just wanted to throw my arms around him and cry into his shirt, but what he said stopped me. "I can't believe you would… You would be so stupid!"

I just froze. I stopped crying and breathing, and possibly just stopped living. I pulled myself away from him again, and I could see in his reaction he didn't mean what he said, but it was too late.

"Go home Stan." I breathed.

He flinched a little and looked hurt himself; wounded even. "Kyle, I… I didn't mean…"

I turned looking down at the ground again. "We're not friends anymore."