[ WP ] A man with a happy family and great life , comes across a genie who grants him three wishes . 10 years later he 's alone and depressed and commits suicide . Expand on his wishes and what prompts his downfall .

I cradled the Walther PPK, one of two remaining items to my estate. I poured the last of the other, a bottle of 50-year-old scotch that I'd bought ten years ago. When the genie had asked for my first wish, it'd been a no-brainer. We were well off, but Lanie always dreamed of pearls and Ferraris, and I just knew the boys, the prodigies that they were, would make it into the best -- the most expensive -- universities. 
 
 So I asked for money, and the genie granted it, and two years later, when the feds busted down my door and waved warrants in my face, I saw the other side of the wish. Nothing comes for free, even magic; the paper trail linking me to embezzlement was long, solid, and it put me behind bars. 
 
 I was huddled in the corner of my cell, years into my sentence, when the genie came calling again. It was dark, and all I could think about were the pearls draped over Lanie's neck, and the laughter of my boys, and the way the wind graced the tips of the grass in my yard. I just wished to see my family again. I should've thought about it more. I realized my mistake the moment the words left my lips. 
 
 I only saw them through a technicality -- a clerical error that sent the three of them to my prison for a day while the state figured out how the hell it happened. I did n't bother asking what they were in for -- I just hugged Lanie, tight as a blanket on a frigid night, and I kissed my boys' foreheads, and after that day I knew I'd never see them again. 
 
 When I got out, I did n't look for news of my family. I did n't have to. When the genie came calling for one final wish, its sardonic grin told me enough. Now it sat before me in what used to be Lanie's favorite chair, and when it folded its shimmering golden fingers across its knee, I could hear its bones crack. 
 
 `` I want you to feel this pain,'' I growled. `` I want you to know what it's like. Just once. Just for a minute. I want you to be in my head.'' 
 
 The genie laughed and waited for me to say the words. They had to be specific. I downed the last of the scotch and glared up into the soulless abyss of its eyes. 
 
 `` I wish you were inside me. I wish you could feel my pain. For just one minute, I wish you and I were the same being.'' 
 
 It laughed again; its voice boomed off the walls and then it vanished. I could feel its power wriggling around in my veins, just out of my reach; I could feel its mirth at having broken my spirit so utterly. No tricks this time. 
 
 No more wishes. I put the gun to my head, pulled the trigger, and took the bastard with me.
