As we arrived at the top of the mountain, I put my arm around my son.
“Such a gorgeous sunset, isn’t it son?”
“Whatever, Dad,” he said, shrugging off my arm and approaching the edge, “Hey, take a photo of me here!”
He stood on the edge with his arms outstretched.
“Be careful son,” I asked as I raised the camera.
He backed up a little, to get as close as he possibly could to the sheer drop.
“Please, be careful!”
My jaw dropped as quickly as I dropped my camera.
I drove back late that night after informing the police and recovering the body. I saw the lights of their cruisers highlight the neighbouring houses as I pulled into the drive. An angry looking officer greeted me; he motioned for me to roll down my window.
“Are you Mr Williamson?”
“Uh, yes I am,” I replied.
“I’m cautioning you for wasting police time,” the officer said, scribbling in his notebook and handing me a reciept.
“I don’t understand.”
“Sir, your wife informs us that your son has been with her all night. I suggest you go home and get some sleep, you are clearly under some stress. I warn you, if you do this again we will act on the restraining order and you will be arrested.”
I sat in the car confused. I watched the patrol cars leave and exited the vehicle. I opened the trunk and my heart sank, I saw a body of a boy, but it wasn’t my son.
I took the bottle out of my pocket and counted the remaining pills.