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Mom Went Crazy After I Died

Mom Went Crazy After I Died

Short Story · Romance
By:  Lit CrusaderCompleted
Language: English
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Synopsis

Regret

Revenge

Family Emotions

Face Slapping

After Death

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Three months after I died, Mom sent evidence of Denise Taylor's plagiarism to her fashion design company—proof that she had copied a renowned designer's work.

It didn't take long for Denise to be labeled a disgraced designer and fired from the company.

That evening, Dad went home with his face twisted in fury.

The moment he opened the door, he hurled my favorite piggy bank against the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

"Nicole," he snarled, pointing a finger at Mom, "you will go to Denise's company right now and tell her boss that the evidence you sent was fake. Do you even realize what you've done? Because of your nonsense, Denise lost the job she worked ten years!"

Mom, gaunt and pale as she sat on the couch, barely moved. But when the piggy bank broke, something inside her snapped.

She leaped from the couch and dropped to the floor, frantically gathering the shards of ceramic with trembling hands.

Her fingers were cut by the sharp fragments piercing her palms. Blood dripped from her clenched fists, but she didn't stop.

And yet, Dad didn't even move. He had no concern for the woman writhing in pain on the floor. Not a single flicker of sympathy crossed his face.

Instead, he crossed his arms, exasperation seeping through his voice.

"Crying again? All you do is cry. Ever since three months ago, every time I come home, you're wailing.

"When are you going to stop this nonsense? You were the one who went to provoke Denise that day. She couldn't take it, so she pushed you. Yeah, I know you broke your hand and you can't perform surgeries anymore. But there are thousands of doctors out there. You're not that special. So what if you can't be a doctor anymore?"

He took a deep breath and said coldly, "I'm done talking. I'll give you one day—go to Denise's company and clear this up. If you don't, I'll make sure Mary doesn't get into that prestigious elementary school."

Then he stormed out and slammed the door so hard that the walls shook.

As I watched him leave, tears of blood streamed down my ghostly face.
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10 Chapters
Chapter 1
Three months after I died, Mom sent evidence of Denise Taylor's plagiarism to her fashion design company—proof that she had copied a renowned designer's work. It didn't take long for Denise to be labeled a disgraced designer and fired from the company. That evening, Dad went home with his face twisted in fury. The moment he opened the door, he hurled my favorite piggy bank against the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces. "Nicole," he snarled, pointing a finger at Mom, "you will go to Denise's company right now and tell her boss that the evidence you sent was fake. Do you even realize what you've done? Because of your nonsense, Denise lost the job she worked ten years!" Mom, gaunt and pale as she sat on the couch, barely moved. But when the piggy bank broke, something inside her snapped. She leaped from the couch and dropped to the floor, frantically gathering the shards of ceramic with trembling hands. Her fingers were cut by the sharp fragments piercing her palms
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Chapter 2
Denise was Mom's foster sister. Two years ago, after Grandma fell ill, Mom—soft-hearted as always—took Dad and me to visit her. From that day forward, Denise latched onto Dad and refused to let go. She didn't stop at manipulating Mom with Grandma's illness to force her way into our home. Once she moved in, she began accusing Mom of hitting and abusing her, creating a rift between my parents. They fought constantly. And just a year ago, she took things further—using her depression as a weapon to steal Dad away entirely. Even when my heart condition worsened and I was hospitalized, Dad didn't come to see me. Mom would tell me he was busy with work, that he had important things to handle. But I knew better. He was with Denise, taking care of her. After all, Denise had depression—she was so fragile, so prone to suicide attempts, that she was considered more delicate than me, his daughter born with congenital heart disease.That injustice gnawed at me. So when Mom broke t
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Chapter 3
Mom fainted from blood loss. Normally, whenever she passed out, she'd wake up in half an hour, but this time, she was out cold the entire day. Panic gripped me. I was terrified something had gone horribly wrong. Desperate, I tried using Mom's phone to dial 911 for help, but no matter how hard I tried, my hand passed right through it. I glanced at Mom's pale, lifeless face, and the pain in my chest surged so violently that, before I knew it, my soul had been drawn to where Dad was. I didn't know how it happened, but suddenly I was there, next to him. Under the dim, flickering light, Dad was gently helping Denise toward the bed. "Your headaches seem to be getting worse again," he said gently, "I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow."Denise stumbled, collapsing into his arms with a fragile, helpless sigh. "I'll be fine," she murmured. "It's just… thinking about how much my sister hates me, it hurts so much." "I really don't understand," she continued, "what do I have to do
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Chapter 4
Maybe it was the overwhelming hatred I felt for Dad that made me snap back to Mom's side the very next second. When I saw her, still lying cold and lifeless on the ground after an entire night, the tears came rushing down all at once. I collapsed over her body, my sobs wracked with frustration and grief. "Mom, please wake up," I cried. "Dad's so awful! He's trying to report you for taking bribes during surgery. He's trying to get you banned from being a doctor! "You didn't even take the money, you gave it back to the patient! But Dad believes Denise, and he didn't even bother to check!"Mom, please! Please don't die. I don't want to be dead anymore, especially with a Dad like that."I didn't know if my sadness was affecting her, but through my tear-filled eyes, I thought I saw her fingers twitch. My heart leaped with hope, and for a brief, shining moment, I thought she might wake up. But before I could scream out in joy, the sharp trill of the phone pierced the air. My wh
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Chapter 5
Dad came home at 9 p.m., and of course, Denise was with him. The sight of Mom lying on the floor, her face pale and lifeless, only caused him to frown slightly as he said, "Now you know what pain feels like, huh? Do you even remember when you sent those fake documents to Denise's company, accusing her of plagiarizing a famous designer? You got her fired. Do you know how much that hurt her?" "Did you know Denise's depression worsened because of you? She almost jumped off a building!"His tone turned condescending. "So what if you've been suspended? It's no big deal. Maybe it's even better that you're not a doctor anymore. Now you'll have time to stay home and take care of Mary. You were always too busy with your job and never cared for her properly. If she weren't so mature, she would have abandoned a mother like you long ago." Hearing Dad use me to torment Mom, my anger exploded. Hatred surged through me, overwhelming every thought. I couldn't take it anymore.I rushed at him,
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Chapter 6
"What are you doing?" Dad looked at Mom in disbelief. But Mom only let out a cold laugh, no hesitation in her eyes as she plunged the syringe deep into Denise's back and yanked it out just as swiftly. Watching Denise grimace and wince in pain, Dad's face instantly turned crimson with fury. "Nicole, have you lost your mind? Do you even realize what you've done?" His voice cracked. Mom let out a bitter, tearful laugh. "Yes, I've lost my mind. I lost it the day Mary died." She gestured towards the left, her voice icy. "Ethan, turn your head and look over there. Do you know what that is? That's your daughter's memorial photo.""Mary died three months ago. You're her dad and you don't even know! And how dare you bring your mistress to our home to question and scold me. How pathetic is that?" Dad froze. Trembling, he stumbled towards the table where my black-and-white portrait was displayed. When he saw it, his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. "No... no, that's im
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Chapter 7
Mom drove the syringe into Denise's back again, more viciously than before. "Denise, you've always been this wretched, haven't you? I used to be afraid of you, afraid you'd destroy my family, my life. But now... Mary is gone. What do I have left to fear?" Mom's voice dripped with bitterness. "Don't worry, someone as wicked as me? If I'm going to meet Mary, I'll make sure I bring you along." As she spoke, Mom grabbed Denise by the hair and dragged her toward the balcony, all the while stabbing the syringe repeatedly into her back.Watching this horrific scene unfold before me, my vision blurred with rage. My eyes turned crimson as I rushed forward. "Mom, no! Mom, please don't! I don't want you to die. I don't need you to come down here with me. I want you to live, live well!" But no matter how much I screamed, Mom couldn't hear me. She kept pushing Denise closer and closer to the edge, half of Denise's body already dangling outside the balcony. Her shrieks echoed through the
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Chapter 8
Mom stayed in the hospital for a week. During that time, Denise tried multiple times to press charges for assault, aiming to have her thrown in jail. But every time, Dad would angrily retaliate, saying, "Fine, go ahead. But if you send Nicole to jail, I'll take back the house I bought you." Denise was always left seething, her teeth grinding in frustration. Aside from that, after Dad visited my grave following Mom's hospitalization, he came back like a completely different person. He cried, apologized to Mom, and admitted his mistakes. He even suggested that they have another child, hoping to somehow ease the pain of losing me. Hearing Dad say that broke my heart. It wasn't jealousy or resentment that stung—it was the thought of having a brother or sister raised by a father like him. I didn't want a new sibling, not when the father would be someone as weak and unreliable as Dad. Having a father like him was too painful, too unbearable. Perhaps Mom felt my sadness too beca
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Chapter 9
Mom stopped crying, and the sorrow that once filled her heart seemed to vanish. Now, her face was always adorned with a smile. She had become a completely different person—confident and fierce. After being discharged from the hospital, she wasted no time. Gathering a group of people, she stormed into Denise's house and turned the place upside down. At that time, Grandpa and Grandma were also living with Denise. Seeing Mom's aggressive behavior, they immediately jumped to defend Denise. "You wicked creature! How dare you wreck our house!" Grandpa and Grandma shouted, raising their hands to hit Mom. But Mom dodged their blows easily, and with a swift, sharp motion, she slapped Denise across the face. "Go on, hit me. Every time you touch me, I'll hit her." Without hesitation, Mom grabbed Denise by the hair and slammed her head to the floor. "You piece of trash! Did you enjoy feeding off my pain, making your life better at my expense? You think you've ruined me, don't you? Bu
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Chapter 10
I knew exactly what the "big gift" Mom had prepared was—it was all the bribe money Dad had taken over the years. Ever since he met Denise, Dad had been buying her luxury goods, designer brands, and even a house. Sure, Dad worked for a state-owned enterprise and had a decent salary, but we were a middle-class family, living paycheck to paycheck. I was born with a heart condition, and my medical bills were overwhelming, leaving us with no savings. But Dad's lavish gifts to Denise didn't come from his salary—they came from bribes. I remembered vividly how, during one of my worst health crises, Mom had tearfully begged Dad to fork out some money for my treatment. And what had Dad said? "The company's not doing well right now, we don't have any money." In the end, it was my grandparents who sold their house to cover the cost of my surgery. Yet, the same Dad who claimed we were too poor to pay for my life-saving operation had plenty of cash to spoil Denise with luxury handbags.
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