[ 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

I saw him sitting there in a parched glade. He sat alone on a large stone, its concave morphed to his postured body, protrusions jutting up around him like a chiseled throne. Over dark, cracked ground I walked toward him. 
 
 “ My son, I— “ 
 
 “ Don ’ t, father. Save your breath from this foul air. You should not have come. ” He looked away from me then, eyes flicking past the charred trees surrounding. 
 
 “ *You* should not have come, son. ” Perhaps that was unfair, but it was said. And it stung us both, vengeful grievances come to redress old wounds. To fill that ocean of distance spanning between them. 
 
 “ There is more to this place than what you see. It manifests differently for each person. Thus is death, its changing perception. ” He met my eyes once again. “ Do not weep for me, father. You deserve better. ” 
 
 “ You know I won ’ t ever believe that. ” I edged closer, desiring to feel him on my hands once again, but he stayed me with an upturned hand. 
 
 “ I can ’ t know what you see before you, but what I feel is hard stone upon my back. It grows, and it weighs me down every day. This weight, don ’ t you see – now I carry the burden— ” 
 
 “ I told you I don ’ t believe that. ” 
 
 “ I thought— ” 
 
 “ You thought wrong. No, you were never a burden, not to me. You brought love, a fond warmth to my heart. And you knew that. Do not deny it, do not lie. Than *that, * I deserve better. ” I turned away and surveyed the desolate scene. “ I see what you have created in this, my son. More than an escape, this is… this is a kingdom. Barren, yes. For now. But perhaps not forever. And you sit its throne. Is that all you desired? A pedestal with which to watch, to control? There are other ways to obtain such things. Could I not have provided this for you? Could we not have given your dream life? ” 
 
 “ Death is my dream. ” 
 
 His voice was harsh and cold, and I had staggered back, brow knotted. “ Son? ” 
 
 “ You misunderstand father. I did not seek escape, not power. I sought sanctuary. ” 
 
 “ From what could you need it? Our lives were peaceful— ” 
 
 “ Not for me, father. For the world. From me. ” His head bowed and he spoke to the dirt. “ Every time I opened my eyes I saw fire. I saw my own desire and intent. Not in controlled dancing, but enlivened chaos. I know not why, but it was pervasive, it would not relent. Each day I found myself itching for ruin. And the world deserved better. *You* deserve better. I know I have pained you in leaving, and for that I am sorry. But it was the safest solution. I am sorry, father. ” 
 
 He lifted his head to meet my eyes once again, and tears streamed down his cheeks. I tried to give voice to my thoughts, but his twisted visage left the words chained in my throat. He raised a hand in sorrowful farewell, and the bleak scene faded from my eyes. 

