[ WP ] You live in a world were a drug exists that allows you to have an out of body experience converse with a dead family member . After months of speculation you decide to take the drug to have on final conversation with your son who committed suicide

His eyes were as green as they ’ d been the day he was born. Jade. Shamrock. Emerald. Moss. Olive. Teal. I ’ d lived with him for almost 17 years, and I still couldn ’ t define them. They didn ’ t come from me or his father. They were simply green. 
 
 The rest of him was smoky gray, transparent enough that if I looked straight at him, he wouldn ’ t be there anymore. He sat delicately on the couch, gazing at me. 
 
 “ Mom. ” 
 
 “ Charlie. ” 
 
 His lips quirked up into a small smile, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. Even in death, that would not change. “ You know, I didn ’ t think you ’ d have the guts to do it. Take the drug, I mean. You were always against it. ” 
 
 “ You ’ re my son, ” I said fiercely. “ I would do anything for you. ” 
 
 His smile faded. “ You don ’ t have to anymore. I ’ m dead. ” 
 
 His words sent a jolt through me, reminding me why I was there, using a drug I had so passionately fought against. 
 
 “ Charlie... ” 
 
 He did not smile again. “ Mom, ” he said gently. “ Why did you come? ” 
 
 I felt my breath catch in my throat and thought of the empty pill bottle I ’ d found hidden under his pillow. I thought of how pale he ’ d been, and how cold his hands were. I thought of his laptop, still powered on, open to a blank Word document. 
 
 “ Why did you do it? ” 
 
 “ Why did I kill myself, you mean? ” 
 
 “ Yes, ” I breathed. “ Why? ” 
 
 He looked as if my words both disturbed and shocked him. “ Mom, I... I can ’ t explain. Not now. Please. ” 
 
 “ Charlie. ” I worked to keep the emotion down. “ Charlie, *please*. ” 
 
 “ Fine. ” His face set into a mask, and his green eyes - the only color left on him, hardened. “ Let me tell you why I killed myself. 
 
 “ It was you. ”
