I Popped Champagne After My Mother’s Car Crash

My mother had gone to all the trouble of making me a pot of homemade chicken soup. On her way to my apartment to deliver it, she got into a massive car wreck. That very night, she was wheeled straight into the ICU.

Meanwhile, I was throwing an absolute rager.

The video of me popping champagne bottles hit the internet, and the public outrage was instantaneous.

"Holy shit, what kind of psycho does this? Did a dog eat your conscience? Your mom is fighting for her life in the ICU, and you're popping bottles? Even animals treat their parents better!"

"The greatest tragedy of your mother's life was giving birth to a piece of trash like you."

"Hell is empty because all the demons are walking among us. I hope you rot."

I completely ignored the endless stream of venomous comments scrolling across my screen. I swayed my hips to the deafening bass, lifting my crystal flute to the camera.

"Come on, drink up!"

The party music was shaking the floorboards. I had just topped off my glass when my phone started ringing off the hook again.

It was my older sister, Tina.

I answered it with a heavy sigh. Through the speaker, her agonizing, ear-piercing wails flooded my ear.

"Harper! Mom is gone! She left us!"

So loud. I pulled the phone away from my face, deeply annoyed, and rubbed my earlobe.

"Alright, she's dead. It happens. You guys need to lighten up."

"Life and death are just a roll of the dice. Everyone dies eventually. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"You ungrateful little bitch, are those the words of a human being?"

The voice on the other end suddenly swapped to my father, roaring with absolute rage.

"You get your ass back here right now and see your mother one last time!"

"Hard pass."

I swirled the golden bubbles in my glass.

"Why would I go back? It's bad vibes."

"I'm having a great time over here. If you don't have anything else to say, I'm hanging up."

To avoid their endless, nagging calls, I just powered my phone off entirely.

But less than a minute later, Tina went live on her social media.

The background was a somber funeral parlor.

Her eyes were puffy and red. She cried to the camera, begging me to come home, and then played the audio recording of the phone call we just had.

In an instant, the headline 'Mother Dies, Cold-Blooded Daughter Refuses to Attend Funeral' skyrocketed to the top of the trending charts.

It completely ignited the fury of the internet.

"It happens? Are those even the words of a human being? Your mother worked her fingers to the bone raising you, and this is how you repay her?"

"The sister is having a total breakdown, the dad is aging ten years from grief, and you're just casually sipping champagne? Wow, this is the first time I've felt actual physical pleasure from cursing someone out."

"Everyone memorize this psycho's face. If you ever see her in public, cross the street. You don't want to be collateral damage when lightning strikes her down."

"Your dad should have thrown you out the window the day you were born. Doxx her, expose her, make sure she's totally canceled. She shouldn't be able to show her face in society ever again."

People even started tagging the corporate HR accounts of major companies on LinkedIn.

"Take a good look at this girl. If she treats her own flesh and blood like this, do you really want to hire her? Would she have any loyalty to your company or your clients? I will personally boycott any brand that hires this sociopath."

Thousands of people followed suit. The online mob mentality reached a boiling point.

My direct messages and voicemails were instantly maxed out, overflowing with the most vile, graphic death threats imaginable.

Right around then, a close friend of mine couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He stepped up to defend me online.

"Everyone, please calm down. The situation isn't what you think it is. There has to be a hidden reason for this."

Then, he posted a massive thread of bank transfer receipts, showing all the money I had sent my family over the years.

"Look at the dates and the amounts. Every single nice thing in their house was bought by Harper. The fridge, the washer, the AC unit, even the solid gold bracelet her mom wears. Harper bought all of it using her college scholarships and money from working three part-time jobs."

"Since the day she left for college, she hasn't taken a single dime from her parents. Does a person like that really sound like the monster you're all making her out to be?"

The furious internet mob wasn't buying a single word of it.

"How much did she pay you to run PR for her, you corporate shill?"

"Wow, your Photoshop skills are top-tier. Faking bank records now?"

"Birds of a feather flock together. Get off the internet. Even if she played the good daughter in the past, her actions right now prove she's a total sociopath. You can't wash this clean."

Within hours, his social media accounts were completely overrun and hacked.

Right at the peak of the outrage, Tina, who had been streaming from the funeral parlor all day, suddenly had an emotional collapse.

Looking directly into the lens, she wailed in absolute agony.

"Harper, please come home! Just come home!"

"If you're hurting, just talk to me! I'll help you fix it!"

The very next second, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a dead faint right in front of the casket.

The stream erupted into chaos. Dad rushed into the frame, scooping Tina up in his arms, tears streaming down his weathered face.

"My sweet girl! Oh, my poor, sweet girl!"

"She's been sitting by her mother's side day and night, refusing to sleep. She didn't want me to lift a finger because of my bad back."

"She washed her mother, emptied her bedpans, and took all the burden without a single complaint. She was so worried about her little sister handling the grief that she literally exhausted herself into a coma!"

The internet ate it up.

"I'm literally sobbing right now. Tina is such an angel."

"She is the definition of a devoted daughter. This is so heartbreaking!"

"Please get some rest, Tina. Your mom is watching from heaven, and she wouldn't want you to ruin your health."

"My heart aches for her. Look at Tina, and then look at that animal of a sister. The difference is night and day."

Watching the clips roll in, a harsh laugh tore from my throat.

I casually typed a reply in the comment section.

"Stop faking it. You're so dramatic."

Immediately after, I posted a brand new update on my main feed.

"The party continues! We're going on a seven-day bender! As long as I'm breathing, the music doesn't stop!"

Attached was a high-res photo of a fresh row of Dom Prignon bottles waiting to be popped.

That single post was like pouring a bucket of ice water into a vat of boiling oil.

The internet absolutely detonated. It was the final straw that snapped whatever tiny shred of sanity the public had left.

"Seven days? Isn't that the traditional mourning vigil? This ungrateful bitch is using her own mother's memorial week as an excuse to get wasted?"

"Holy shit, this creature doesn't deserve to breathe oxygen. I'm praying for karma to strike her down tonight."

"They say the spirits of the dead visit their families during the vigil. I hope her mom's ghost comes back and haunts the hell out of this absolute monster. She is the scum of the earth."

Overnight, Tina's reputation as the ultimate tragic, loving daughter reached national news.

Her follower count skyrocketed into the millions.

The next morning, dressed entirely in black mourning clothes, she showed up outside my apartment complex. She had a live stream going and a massive banner in her hands.

The banner read in bold, blood-red letters. Harper, Please Come Home.

She stood on the sidewalk, screaming up at my window through tears.

"Harper, I'm begging you! Please just open the door! Mom is gone. You have to come say goodbye to her!"

"Think about everything Mom did for you! We were so poor growing up, but whenever we had anything good to eat, Mom wouldn't touch a single bite. She saved it all for you."

"She lied and said she wasn't hungry, just so you could have a full stomach! Remember when you had that awful fever? Mom stayed awake for three straight nights holding you. You were her entire world, and in the end..."

Tina choked back a perfectly timed sob, wiping her cheeks.

"In the end, she died because she was trying to bring you dinner! Harper, how can you be this cruel? She loved you so much, are you really going to let her cross over with a broken heart?"

The chat in her live stream was moving so fast it was a blur. And it wasn't just the internet anymore. A massive, angry mob had gathered right outside my building.

"Don't cry, Tina! We've got your back!"

"Someone start a GoFundMe for Tina so she can sue this ungrateful brat. I've literally gone through a whole box of tissues watching this. Tina is too pure for this world."

"Get out here and face us, you coward!"

The chanting down below was getting louder by the second.

I smirked. They really wanted to put on a show, didn't they?

Fine. I'll give them a front-row seat.

I walked over and threw the window wide open.

"Are you done acting yet? You look incredibly ugly when you cry."

"Attend a vigil? Ugh, no thanks. It's bad luck."

"It's not bad luck! Mom would never hold this against you! Just come home, please!"

Seeing me finally respond, Tina looked like she had grabbed onto a lifeline, shaking her head frantically.

I scoffed, cutting her off completely.

"I really didn't want to go. But since you came all the way down here to beg me, I guess I can make a concession."

"Tell you what, I'll send Diesel in my place. That seems pretty fitting."

I put two fingers to my lips and let out a sharp whistle.

A massive, sleek black Doberman trotted out from the living room.

I reached down and patted his head.

"Go on, Diesel. Head downstairs and mourn your mother."

"Woof!"

Diesel barked happily, his tail wagging as if he completely understood the assignment.

"What's wrong, Tina? You don't look happy."

"You..."

Tina stared up at me, the color completely draining from her face. She looked like she had just been slapped. I gave her a slow, mocking smile.

Then, I glanced down at my phone.

The comment section was a literal warzone. I let out an exaggerated sigh.

"And as for the rest of you brain-dead keyboard warriors... is this really all you do with your lives?"

"You sit around all day with nothing better to do than obsess over a stranger's family drama. You are a bunch of absolute failures in the real world, desperately trying to feel morally superior on the internet. Pathetic."

"If you all love attending funerals so much, why don't you go? You can carpool with my dog. It'll be a blast."

The live stream chat literally froze for a solid second.

And then, it exploded like a nuclear bomb.

"WHAT THE FUCK! Did I hear that right? Not only is she sending a dog to her mom's funeral, she's actively insulting us? She has the nerve to talk down to us?!"

"?????"

"Holy shit, she is completely unhinged. I can't take this anymore. I'm calling the police."

"Do it! I'm reporting her too! If she doesn't end up behind bars, there is no justice in this world."

I watched in real-time as dozens of people bragged about dialing 911.

A genuine smile finally broke across my face.

But this wasn't quite enough.

I turned around and grabbed a heavy plastic bucket I had prepared earlier. It was sealed tight. I dragged it to the window, looking down at the furious mob.

"You guys might want to step back," I called out sweetly. "I'd hate for there to be collateral damage."

With one massive heave, I tipped the bucket over the ledge. A tidal wave of rancid, fermented garbage sludge and raw sewage plummeted directly onto Tina's head.

Splash.

The overwhelming stench of pure, rotting decay hit the air instantly.

"Ahhhhh!"

Tina let out a piercing, hysterical shriek that cracked in the middle. But she recovered terrifyingly fast, a flash of pure, murderous hatred burning in her eyes.

She was still trying to stay in character.

"Harper, how could you be so immature? If you hate me that much, just take it out on me!"

"Why do you have to drag innocent bystanders into this?"

Watching her stand there dripping in filth, trying to act like a saint, I actually burst out laughing.

"Sister, I think you need to go home and take a shower. You've always been full of crap, but now you actually smell like it."

Right on cue, the wail of police sirens cut through the neighborhood, coming to a screeching halt below my building.

"You in the window! You are suspected of public endangerment and assault!" an officer barked through a megaphone.

"Cease your actions immediately and come down with your hands visible!"

"No problem, Officer! I'm fully cooperating!"

I raised my hands with a bright smile and shouted back.

The walk from my building to the squad car was a gauntlet. People were screaming in my face.

Some people even threw rotten eggs and garbage at me.

"Sociopath! Animal!"

Even as the police were shoving me into the back of the cruiser, some guy was chasing the car with a brick, trying to smash the window.

The internet was practically throwing a parade.

"Serves her right! This absolute menace should have been locked up days ago."

"She is a cancer on society. Give her the maximum sentence. People like her are a danger to everyone around them."

"Poor Tina. She didn't deserve any of this."

By the time I was standing in the defendant's box in the courtroom, Tina had completely cleaned herself up. She was wearing a crisp, elegant black mourning dress.

Her eyes were perfectly red, her posture a masterclass in suppressed grief. The ultimate tragic daughter.

"Damn, I threw that bucket way too early," I muttered, shaking my head in mock disappointment.

"Order in the court!"

The Judge slammed the gavel down hard.

He glared at me with absolute authority, his voice echoing through the silent room.

"Harper Preston. The prosecution has charged you with public endangerment, assault, and creating a severe public disturbance. Furthermore, the court notes a shocking display of gross negligence and reckless disregard for basic human decency regarding your late mother."

"How do you plead?"

A loud, sharp laugh tore from my throat.

"Plead? Why the hell would I plead guilty to any of that?"

"There was a rabid dog barking outside my window. Dogs love eating garbage. I just fed it a nice meal. Is that a crime?"

"And reckless disregard for human decency?"

I looked around the room like I had just heard the funniest joke of my life.

"Your Honor, with all due respect, you've got this entire thing backward."

The courtroom erupted into a frenzy of whispers. The gallery was practically vibrating with anger.

The Judge hammered his gavel repeatedly.

"Order! Order!"

"Miss Preston, I strongly advise you to watch your tone in my courtroom."

I smiled politely, casually reaching into my pocket. I pulled out a tiny USB drive and held it up.

"Your Honor, I would like to submit evidence for my defense against these heavy accusations of moral decay. The proof is right here on this drive. I request that it be played for the court immediately."

The court clerk took the drive and plugged it into the media system.

The massive monitors in the courtroom flickered to life.

The video showed the interior of Mom's funeral parlor.

People were walking around in black suits, wiping fake tears.

Suddenly, a team of grim-faced men in crisp suits stormed into the room.

They marched straight toward the casket, forcefully shoving the crowd aside. When my father tried to block them, two of the men grabbed him by the arms and hauled him away.

My father was thrashing wildly on the screen.

"What the hell are you doing?! Who are you people?"

"Why are you disturbing my wife's rest?! Let me go!"

"You can't disrespect the dead! Is there no law in this country?!"

Watching his panicked, desperate face on the monitor, I sneered, my voice cutting through the silent courtroom.

"They're the medical examiners."

I paused, letting the words hang in the air.

"Time for an autopsy."

The moment the words left my mouth, a graveyard silence fell over the room.

Tina's face went totally bloodless. But she reacted with terrifying speed. She dropped to her knees, crawling toward my defense box, sobbing hysterically.

"Harper, why?! Why won't you just let her rest? Why do you have to humiliate her corpse?!"

"If you're angry, punish me! You can take my life if you want, but please, I am begging you, leave Mom out of this! Let her go in peace!"

"I know you're just mad about the internet comments! I'll apologize! I'll take the blame! Just call those men off! That's our mother! Your own flesh and blood!"

She let go of the wooden railing and started bowing frantically to the gallery and the Judge, tears streaming down her face.

"Please, somebody help me! Make her stop!"

"Don't let my mother suffer in death!"

Tina's performance was flawless. The sheer desperation in her voice instantly ignited the crowd's fury all over again.

The public gallery and the live stream chat went completely nuclear. People were screaming, ready to tear me limb from limb.

The courtroom descended into absolute chaos.

"You animal! Drag her out of that box and beat her to death!"

"Your Honor, lock her away forever! You can't let her desecrate a corpse!"

Several people in the gallery completely lost their minds. They shoved past the bailiffs, vaulting over the wooden partition, and tackled me to the ground. Fists and heavy boots rained down on me.

Someone grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head viciously against the oak paneling.

Warm blood instantly poured down my forehead, blinding my left eye.

"You piece of shit! You won't even let your dead mother rest! Why are you still breathing?!"

"I'll do the world a favor and kill you myself! I don't care if I go to jail, it's worth it!"

"Order! Bailiffs, clear the gallery! Order!"

The Judge was screaming, slamming his gavel so hard the wood splintered, but the mob was out of control.

My arms and legs were pinned to the floor. Blood dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision.

But on the monitors, the video was still playing.

And then, every single scream, every curse, every violent punch in that courtroom ground to an absolute, dead halt.

The rage evaporated, replaced by the sound of sharp, collective gasps.

"What the...?"