"Come on, son, throw the ball." 35-year-old Norman Grove smiled and encouraged his young son to toss him the ball. His son, Richie, grinned as he tossed the football far across the field. Norman quickly ran to catch it.
This was his idea of perfection. Spending time with his son, the way he'd always dreamed. Next time they would celebrate Richie's twelfth birthday. He was looking forward to it.
He didn't know why his wife had such problems with what he was doing. There was nothing wrong.
"Norman! Norm! What are you doing?!"
Norman groaned. His wife had found him again.
"You have a very important meeting!" Sylvia Grove called to him from the side of the field.
"Sorry son," Norman apologized, placing a hand on Richie's shoulder. "Looks like I'll have to leave you now."
Richie just smiled and said nothing; he never said much. Norman turned around and walked towards his wife. Slowly, the scenery faded into blackness, and Norman carefully pulled the VR headset off his face.
"Is it four o'clock already?" Norman asked his wife.
Sylvia nodded grimly. "Are you ready?" She looked at her husband carefully. He had changed so much. He was happy only when he was attached to that machine. And when he came out, he was back to being the grumpy old politician.
She watched as he made his way down the hallway from his office to the conference room, where some foreign delegates were waiting to meet him. "Its just not healthy," Sylvia sighed as she left as well.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Norman said as he slid into his seat. "I was making plans for my son's birthday party." He ignored the bemused looks the delegates gave him and started his presentation.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Sylvia?" Danielle Stone asked, Sylvia's personal assistant.
"Trust me, this is for the best. He'll understand." She glanced at the wall of photos of little Richie in her husband's office.
"Get it out of here," She nodded at the men who were loading up the Virtual Reality machine.
"He'd be twelve soon wouldn't he?" Danielle asked.
Sylvia nodded slowly, "Tomorrow," She let out a shuddered sob as she thought of her son. "It's all for the best." She assured herself. "Norman will understand."
"Excuse me, gentlemen." He said distractedly as he left the conference room.
He stumbled out into the hallway and watched in horror as his wife, his own wife, showed them to the exit!
"Sylvia! What are you doing!" He screamed.
Sylvia looked up and gasped, "Now Norman, you have to trust me on this…"
Norman pushed past her and screamed at the movers to stop.
"Norman! Please, it's for the best!"
"NO! Don't you realize what you're doing woman? You're taking away my son!"
He roughly shoved the petite woman to the ground and ran after the movers.
"Quickly! Get it on the truck!" Danielle cried. The movers started to run, pushing the VR equipment on the dolly.
"Stop! Stop!" Norman screamed. "That's my son! That's my son!" He felt his eyes stinging with tears as he ran furiously after them. Panic built up inside his chest, and he was blinded with rage. He swung his arm out at one of the movers and caught him in the face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other lost control of the dolly in all the excitement and it toppled over at the top of the stairs.
For Norman, things seemed to go in slow motion. He saw the pile of equipment tumbling down the stair, and then, it broke apart. The generator shattered into pieces.
"NO!" Norman screamed. He raced down the stairs and fell to his knees next to his precious VR machine. He broke down into sobs as he frantically pulled the headset on and pounded on the keys.
"My son, my son," He chanted. "You've killed him, you've killed my son!" He looked up accusingly at his wife, who now stood at the top of the stairs. "Look what you have done."
"I had to," Sylvia hissed. Norman was sobbing like a little child, and it was pathetic.
"You…how could you do this? How could you murder our son?" Norman gasped, cradling what was theft of the VR machine in his arms.
"Please stop this Norman!" Sylvia begged. "It's…it's not right." Norman ignored her as h whispered to the broken equipment, as if it were a living thing.
"I love you Richie," He said, "I won't leave you, like she did." Sylvia's face was streaked with tears. "Norman," She said slowly, "You have to face the reality. You can't be happy with that…that machine! That is not our son! Our son has been dead for a year now!"
Norman winced at the sound of the truth. "You're wrong," He stammered, "Y-You're so wrong. I had my son, I-I can't leave him."
Sylvia frowned and then started to cry as well. "You're sick, Norman, you're very sick. You can't live with this illusion any longer. You have to move on."
"No," Norman insisted. "I will stay with my son forever."
Sylvia was at a loss. There was nothing she could do now. Her husband had gone crazy. The thought terrified her. She let herself drop to her knees, and then curled up into a little ball on the ground and let it all out.
"How is the patient?" The Doctor asked the young nurse. The nurse looked up and sighed. "There's no change." She sighed. "He won't eat, he won't sleep, he just…sits there."
"Hmm…" The doctor thought for a moment, then unlocked the door and let himself in.
The man who sat in the corner was a pathetic sight, to say the least. His hair was graying prematurely, and his face was red and stained with tears. He rocked back and forth slowly, muttering something under his breath.
"Mr. Grove?" The doctor leaned in close and listened to the man speak; but he could not make out the words.
"Do you want to say something, Mr. Grove?"
He leaned down even closer and finally managed to make out the repeated words.
"My son, my son, take me to my son. I must go to my son. My son, my son…"
