Toxic

A villain is evil, like the Joker or Lex Luthor. The thing with Emma was that she was unintentionally bad. It seemed like the only emotions she knew were guilt, hate, and sadness. The first attack on her mom had just been the beginning of it all. Some kids still hadn't heard about the incident, they were the ones still bullying her. When she got pissed at them a sort of fog would appear around her. It was like it came out of her pores. Due to all the snow no one could really see, but all the kids that messed with her would get sick. One kid started hyperventilating and needed his inhaler.

All of those incidents could have been blamed on the flu or some other common sickness, but as she got older it got worse and they all realized it was her doing it.

There were even more fights with her mom that always ended with her mom coughing up blood or being sent to the hospital. Seeing Carrie lying on the bed defenseless with IV's and tubes hooked up to her was a lovely sight. Sometimes Emma would come and visit her just so she could watch her suffer.

When Emma turned eighteen she was sick of everything and everyone. She'd already dropped out of high school and had nothing to hold her back, not even her sick mother. It was time to leave the nest.

Anything and everything she had ever owned was packed into a duffel bag on her bed. There were a couple bottles of alcohol in her mom's room, she thought that maybe she should take them, it'd be the final, 'fuck you!' She laughed bitterly under her breath; she liked the sound of that. All the bottles lying in Carrie's room were scattered across her bed and dresser, most of the bottles were half empty and opened. Emma's eyes scanned them all, she found one right next to the dusty vanity mirror. Bourbon? Bingo.

One mouthful of the disgusting liquid lead to another and before she knew it Emma was rifling through the boxes in her mother's closet and tossing things over her shoulder. She would 'accidentally' rip up her nice shirts and throw little glass objects at the wall. Carrie's room was torn up, when she was released from the hospital she'd have a heart attack and be admitted once again.

"Whass this?" Emma slurred. She grabbed what looked like a VHS tape. Her brows furrowed as she struggled to stand up and pop it into the VCR player. If it was a sex tape her mom made then she was going to sell it to some guy in the porn industry and cash in on her mother's humiliation. An evil laugh escaped her throat as she slid it into the player and got comfortable on the corner of the bed.

First it was a fuzzy picture then soon played a woman that looked very similar to Emma but instead of her brown eyes they were bright blue. "She's beautiful," the woman said, her voice was as soft as silk, it even sounded like Carrie. The camera showed that the woman was lying in a hospital bed with a small bundle in her arms. "She looks just like you," said the voice holding the camera. The camera moved around to the bundle in the woman's arms. It was a tiny baby with dark hair and long full lashes resting against plump cheeks, she was sleeping soundly and staying close to her mother.

A tight swelling feeling was in Emma's chest as she watched. The baby was beautiful and so.. Small. There was a beauty mark right by the woman's mouth, the same exact one that Carrie had. The realization slowly set in as Emma realized what she was watching. The man holding the camera must have been her dad. She never knew him, he died when she was four.

The screen changed from the hospital room to a man sitting in an arm chair holding baby Emma. He had a brilliant smile on his face and messy dark curls that had a mind of their own. Glasses laid gently on the bridge of his nose. His pointer finger was lightly toying with the baby's pinky. "What are you thinking?" Came the voice from the camera. The man didn't even bother to look up. He was staring down at little Emma like she was the only thing that existed. His eyes looked full of love and wonder. "She's so small," he said in a quiet voice, the camera barely picked up on it.

The person holding the camera walked towards the man and the baby and showed the smiling baby and the equally happy father holding her. "Em," Carrie cooed. "Say hi to the camera, sweetie." The man looked up at the camera and Emma was staring into the same eyes as her own. "She has to say 'daddy' before she greets anyone," he joked.

After that the screen went blank. There was a tugging at Emma's heart and she stood up. "No," she whispered desperately. She needed to see more of the happy family. Quickly she ran back to her mom's closet and searched through the boxes for more tapes, she found another one. Just as fast she ran to the VHS played and ripped out the tape before putting in the other one. It took a moment, there was some fuzziness, but then she was met with her nameless father once again.

This film had a series of clips from the small baby crawling and giggling madly to her second birthday where she had cake smashed all over her face. Emma would laugh and smile wistfully as she watched the happy family. Tears fell down her face as she thought of the great memories that could have happened, what a wonderful family they would have been. She learned that her father's name was William. From the look of the clips he loved little baby Emma with all of his heart. She was always in his arms or Carrie's. Never had she seen her mother look so happy. The happiest she looked was when she was holding Emma and William was softly kissing her cheek.

Next thing Emma knew she was back with her head in the box and trying desperately to find more evidence that this family did in fact exist at one point in time. At the very bottom of the box were pictures of the three of them. Underneath that was a clipping from a newspaper that had a picture of her father's smiling face on it. She held it so carefully as if it were going to rip up right in front of her.

William James Houston, twenty-six years old, was the victim of a drunk driving accident.

Silent tears turned to sobbing as she continued to read about how he was driving home and was hit by a drunk driver and died. They talked about how he worked a shitty office job and the house he owned was going into foreclosure. The name of the driver was there too. Earle Connors.

Emma grabbed a handful of the pictures and her bag. She ran out of the house so fast that she left the door wide open, as if welcoming someone to come in. Her feet stumbled as she ran drunkenly to her mother's car. Driving drunk wasn't smart and she knew it, it had killed one man that she didn't remember but loved so much already. The consequences of her actions didn't matter to her, she needed to see her mom and soon.

Workers at the hospital knew about her and stayed out of her path as she ran through the halls to find her mom's room. Nothing would stand in her way.

"What the fuck is this?" She screeched, she tossed the pictures to the foot of her mom's bed when she entered and kicked the door shut behind her.

Carrie was lying on the bed with tubes in her nose and IVs in her arms. Her face was white as a ghost and you could see what looked like a rash running over her arms and neck. The moment she heard the voice she cringed and coughed harshly. "The fuck are you-" She caught a glance of the pictures and froze.

"How did you get those?" Was her shaky reply.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" Emma's lower lip was trembling and she was doing her best not to cry in front of the woman. "Or the videos? Or-Or why didn't you treat me like a human fucking being?!" She stepped over to her and grabbed the pictures and threw them on the floor. "Why weren't we happy?! When he died did your love for me go too?" She waited a moment before screaming, "DID IT?!"

Carrie jumped and looked up at her. Her eyes were glazed over but she looked angry. "You don't know what you're talking about! Get out, you've done enough," she motioned to her arms and the IVs, "Haven't you? Or did you come here to make it worse?"

Emma shook her head and licked her lips. "No, you can't order me around anymore."

All she wanted to do was rip the tubes out of her nose and strangle her. "You belong here, in this fucking hell hole." She leaned in close to her mother so she was breathing against her cheeks. She could see a rash beginning to form from where she was breathing but Carrie made no effort to move. "I hope you die here you evil bitch."

The beeping from the heart monitor rose and beeped loudly. A surge of panic rushed through Carrie as her throat tightened and her heart ached. No, not this again. "Get away from me!" She screamed, she cocked her hand back slapped Emma hard across the face.

Emma stumbled back and held her cheek. Carrie's coughing turned more violent and specks of blood flew onto her hospital gown. The young adult was breathing heavily as she wobbled up and leaned against the wall. "If I were him I would've gotten hit on purpose. No one would want to spend their life with you," she hissed.

Her mother did her best to look strong, like the comment didn't affect her. Emma knew better. She watched as the angry look faded away and she started crying. She sobbed and pointed a bony finger at the door, "Please, Em.. Just go."

Em... That was something she hadn't heard in a long time. Hearing it made Emma's stomach feel like id had sank down to her feet. "You don't get to call me that," she hissed. "N-Not after everything you put me through." She inhaled shakily and bit down hard on her lip. "Why didn't you love me?" Her voice was as soft as a whisper, it was hard to hear over the beeping monitors.

The heart monitor beeped louder and faster, Carrie's pain only increased. She held onto her chest for dear life and tried to catch her breath and started coughing once again. Emma stared at the machine before walking back over to the other machines her mother was hooked up to. Why? Why didn't she love her? Why didn't she stop her dad from getting into the car? It was all her fault. It was her fault Emma was like this. She could have loved her, she could have held her as she cried about how the kids didn't like her, or told her that it would have been okay. None of that ever happened.

In a fit of rage she tore out all of the plugs from the socket and watched as her mother stared at her with a scared look on her face. She could hear fast footsteps going towards their direction. "Burn in Hell," Emma spat. She bent down and grabbed the pictures before turning around. Before she left she could her odd noises from behind her.

She turned back around and watched as her mother's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she started having a seizure. Her eyes widened, faster then she ever had she was running out of the hospital room, passed the rushing doctors, the confused nurses, and tore out of the building.

Once she was driving far away from the shithole town and away from her past she felt scared. Shock had set in the moment she stepped out of the room and everything was finally catching up to her. She pulled onto the side of the empty road and sat still for a moment.

"Fuck," she croaked. She held the wheel tightly in her hands and rested her forehead against it. Tears spilled down her face and onto her lap as she let herself cry once again. The buzz from the alcohol had worn off a while ago and she was finally understanding everything. "God fucking damnit!" Emma reached to the back seat and grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol she had taken. She couldn't even read the label of the bottle, her tears blurred her vision.

Later that night Carrie Lynn De Luca-Houston died from cardiac arrest. The toxins in her body some how multiplied and attacked her heart causing a seizure before she finally died. Doctors say that it was incredibly likely that she felt everything and died painfully.

Emma found out by seeing the report on a small TV in a gas station. She didn't cry, but that mist leaked from her pores and infected everyone in the small shop. They all started puking and coughing. She had ran out of there and kept driving.