I'd kill myself, but suicide is so cliché

“Mom, can you watch for bugs while I pee?“ The little boy asked.

“Sure hun.” His mom said.

They were hiking on top of a mountain. The mom was depressed, although she did not understand why. The little boy stood near the edge of the cliff. He started peeing.

The mom was suddenly gripped by a cold vision of terror ahead of them: a single mom, alone, with no good prospects. So depressed. Hopeless.

The boy. His back towards her. So small. So innocent. So helpless. He zipped up his zipper and glanced upwards to see his mom’s face above him. A sad look on her face.

“I’m sorry and I love you.“ She pushes him off the cliff.

Ten years pass. The mom is now married. Well to do. She looks on from the balcony, out into the prosperous suburb she now lives in. Her new son, young and small, calls out from behind her.

“Hey mom, what you doing?” The kid says, in that tiny, sing-song voice.

“Nothing…" She says. She looks out. It’s so beautiful. She sees her son. She feels her heart break a little. He looks so… fragile. A memory resurfaces, of another son so long ago, but she pushes it away. That was then. This was now. Now she is happy. There’s always hope for new beginnings.

“Would you like to sit here?“ She asks, patting at the balcony, smiling. What a beautiful boy she has.

The kid just looks at her and smiles, the sadness noticeable.

“No mom.”

“Come on, you’ll see into your friend’s houses.“

“No mom.”

“Are you sure? It’s fun.“