29. The trauma goes back THREE generations

Mirabel didn't start running at first. No. At first she was just slowly walking away from the ruins of Casita, but the further away she got the faster she started to go.

By the time she got to the mountain, which had split completely in half, she was sprinting. She had no thoughts in her mind, just letting herself hear the sounds of the house crumbling around her repeat in her mind over and over again.

Her fault.

This was all her fault.

She should have listened to Bruno.

Bruno. She missed him. She had wanted to talk to him all week, but right now she didn't want any words from him. Even though she knew that he would have nothing but words for her when he did see her again. He always had words. It was hard for him not to.

But he wasn't there. She had left him behind to seek her own selfish ideas. She had left him alone. All alone. For days.

He had told her not to go. He had warned her of the dangers. But she hadn't listened. And now her family had been left homeless and powerless, all because of her.

But she knew that she couldn't wallow in those thoughts. So she did the thing that Bruno had always told her to do whenever they got too sad or lonely. She ran.

And finally she had run enough, and she slowed to a light jog. And then she saw it. She saw her home. She saw Casa. And it was... still standing.

Even though she had been running for most of the time she picked up speed once more and practically threw herself onto the house. She dashed up the front two steps and came to a rest in front of the front door.

"Casa!" she said, forcing a happy tone onto her voice. Inside she really felt like lying down on the floor and melting into nothing.

Casa did not respond.

"Casa?" Mirabel said, worry seeping through her body. She rested a hand on the front door, the wood not moving in the slightest. The wood of the door was darker than before, like Bruno's door in Casita had been. Mirabel felt a sob build up in her throat.

She grabbed onto the doorknob, silently praying that Casa was just playing a cruel joke with her. But nothing happened. She opened the door, and stepped into the darkened house.

Everything was exactly how she had left it. She walked through the house, half in a stupor. She came to the bedroom hallway, and stopped in front of the family tree on the wall.

Everything was just the same on the tree. Her cousins (oh, but half of them were really her siblings, but she didn't want to think of that) still in their child forms. Herself the only teenager, directly under Bruno.

There were hearts connecting Pepa with Felix, Abuela with Abuelo, and Julieta and Agustin. Hearts that represented their love. The thing that produced children. Looking at that now she was plagued by guilty questions; How had she never asked Bruno who her mother was? Why had that never even crossed her mind? How had she started thinking that he was her father? Had he really taken her to keep the family safe?

She stared at the painting of Bruno, her fingers grazing over his face. She longed for him to be there, to explain everything to her. But she was alone. He wasn't there. He might never come... Not after... Not after what she had done.

I will love you mija. No matter what you do. No matter what happens.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and then left her spot in front of the wall. She looked in her room, her unfinished sewing projects waiting expectantly for her. But she didn't feel like sewing. She didn't feel like doing... anything.

She went into Bruno's room. His room was a lot more spare than hers. There were paintings of rats hanging on the walls, ones that he had painted next to her. Memories of him laughing and slicking pain onto her face filled her mind. But they were tinged blue in her mind.

Was it all a lie?

She glanced at his bed, where he kept his most precious things. She knew about the box of visions he kept underneath his bed, but the rule that she was not to touch them stayed her hand from grabbing them and checking if they still showed the future.

Her eyes flicked to drawings she had made herself. Bruno loved every single thing she made for him. From the crudely drawn representations of them from when she had been in single digits, to the stuffed rat she had surprised him with for his forty-seventh birthday.

She walked over to his closet, and switched her focus to the ruanas hanging there. She had taken it upon herself to embroider him a new one every year, and she was going on her third year doing so.

There were only two hanging there. The first one, simply bordered with green hourglasses, and the most recent one. She grabbed the newer cloth, staring at the multi-colored hourglasses and butterflies she had spent hours embroidering into the green fabric. She pressed the cloth to her nose, breathing in the scent of Bruno for the first time in a week.

There were tears in her eyes, and she felt more helpless than ever. She didn't just want his clothes! She wanted him! She needed him!

THAT MAN IS NOT YOUR FATHER!

Without thinking she slid the ruana over her head and felt it fall over her body, nearly reaching the end of her similarly colored skirt. She looked down at her pink shoes, and felt deeply lonely. She pulled the ruana closer to herself, and prayed that she wouldn't feel this way forever.

She turned around, and walked out of Bruno's room, shutting the door behind her. She didn't feel like going into her room. She didn't feel like... like being in Casa anymore. It was like being inside a skeleton. A friend's skeleton no less.

She stumbled out of the only home she had ever really know, feeling her breath get caught in her chest. She ran past the garden, the green reminding her of Isabela. She had gotten Isabela out of her shell. But that had led to... to...

Bruno took you away to keep all of us safe! The miracle is dying because of you!

She forced those thoughts away. She tore her eyes away from the garden, and didn't stop walking until she got to the river.

She had always loved the river. She went there nearly every day, more often than not with Bruno. The two of them could spend hours there, talking, laughing, playing...

Mirabel didn't feel like laughing or playing right then. She stared at the water, the current moving steadily past her. She looked at the slight waterfall off to her left, and sat down on the bank, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Papá..." she whispered, bringing her knees up close to her chest. "Papá... please come soon... I miss you..." She felt a pang of loneliness and fear run through her. She buried her face in the bottom of Bruno's ruana, and then pulled the hood up over her head.

"Oh mija," she said, in a voice that was as close to 'Hernando's' as she could make hers be, "What's wrong? Who do I need to punch?"

Slipping back into her own voice she mumbled, "Me apparently. I ruined everything. I yelled at Abuela, and made the candle go out... and Casita fell apart! And it's all my fault!"

Her mind scrambled for an answer from Hernando, but, since she couldn't fully slip into him (not like Papá could. Sometimes Mirabel was convinced that he had multiple personalities) she didn't have any good wisdom for her normal self.

But Hernando still felt real to her. Bruno's stories and characters always felt real. So she replied to herself, "Well, I'm not going to hit you Mariposa. So... I guess... the fearless and strong and tough Hernando can... hug you."

Mirabel clutched Bruno's ruana closer to herself, and let herself cry in front of her river.

She didn't know how much time passed, but the world was slowly growing darker around her. She knew that she shouldn't stay out there, but she couldn't help but feel that she'd spend the entire night next to the river. Not unless something magical happened.

As the sun was just starting to set she heard light footsteps, but couldn't bring herself to look at who it was. She was Hernando right then, and Hernando didn't care about anyone who wasn't named Mirabel, Jorge, or Bruno.

"Mirabel..."

It was Abuela. Why did it have to be Abuela!? Why couldn't it be Isabela! Or Julieta! Or even Agustin! Literally any other person on the planet besides Abuela! Abuela was the worst person to be here right now!

Mirabel felt her heart seize up, but she let her uncle flow through her. Without turning her head she said in her deepest, Hernandioest voice, "Mirabel is not here right now. Can Hernando take a message?"

She vaguely heard her grandmother still behind her, and then heard her walk forward and sit on the bank near Mirabel. "I remember Hernando..." Abuela said quietly, and Mirabel felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Mirabel..." Abuela said, and Mirabel squeezed her legs closer to her chest. "Not Mirabel. Hernando." She whispered through her teeth, but Abuela didn't pay her any mind. "Mirabel, I need to apologize to you."

Mirabel stirred a little, she peaked out from under the ruana's hood and looked at Abuela, who was staring at the water. Mirabel knew how to receive apologies, she'd only gotten about ten a day for the past ten years. But whereas Bruno typically apologized for speaking over her, or accidentally tearing his clothes, Abuela was apologizing for... well...

"Mirabel, I... " Abuela said, and Mirabel finally looked at her in the eye. Abuela appeared pained, frail, and... old. Much older than Mirabel knew she was.

Mirabel pulled the hood back a bit, letting the front of her hair fall out and around her glasses. She stared at Abuela, who looked a little lost for words.

"Abuela... can we... not talk right now?" Mirabel asked, and Abuela stared at her with soft eyes that reminded her so much of...

THAT MAN IS NOT YOUR-

Abuela nodded once, and then stared out at the river.

Mirabel stared at the water as well, tears threatening to fall from her eyes again. She didn't want to be sitting next to Abuela. She didn't want her to be in her special spot. She didn't want Abuela to be staring at the water. She didn't want to think about the woman who had yelled at her. She didn't want-

"I've never been able to come back here."

Mirabel's head jerked over to look at Abuela, who was rubbing the ends of her black shawl in between two of her fingers. "Wh- What?" she asked, searching her grandmother's face for answers.

Abuela looked at her, her eyes more sad than Mirabel had ever seen them before. Abuela looked back out at the river, and said in a low voice, "This river... is where we were given our miracle."

Mirabel jerked a little. "What?" she asked, confusion rising in her soul. This was where they were given the miracle? Hadn't the miracle come when Abuelo Pedro... How did that... But this was the river that she grew up by! This was her favorite-

"This place is where your Abuelo Pedro... gave his life for us..." Abuela said, rubbing the ground next to her. Mirabel felt herself leap up, the hood of the ruana falling onto her back. She stared at her grandmother and asked in a loud voice, "Wait! WHAT?!"

Abuela met her eyes, confusion filling her own. "You didn't know?" she asked, half in shock, half in deep sadness. Mirabel nodded a little too vigorously, and rambled, "Well. I knew about Abuelo Pedro sacrificing himself... I just didn't know it was here. This is where I grew up!"

Abuela's eyes were wide now, she mouthed the word 'What', and watched Mirabel throw her hand out. "My house it right over there! You mean to tell me I've been living right next to where my grandfather died!? Papá's been living next to where his dad died!? And he didn't even know?!"

The two of them maintained eye contact, then Mirabel felt her energy burst give out. She groaned loudly then slid back to the ground, holding her face in her hands. Abuela held a hand out and placed it worriedly on Mirabel's shoulder.

"Mirabel..." she began, but Mirabel shook her head. "Please... can we not?" Mirabel asked, looking up into Abuela's eyes. "I'm a little too tired for... this."

Abuela nodded, then said quietly, "You're an awful lot like him you know."

Mirabel looked back up at Abuela, who continued, "I thought... that I would have a different life... That I would be a different woman."

She was tired. Alma was oh-so tired.

She was following Pedro. The love of her life. The man who had stolen her heart the moment she laid eyes on that goofy smile of his. But there was nothing goofy about what was happening. Not even Pedro could bring humor to this situation.

There were so many people surrounding them. People who were looking to her husband for answers. Alma knew that she was among them. She couldn't help but look at him with pleading eyes. She didn't know what else to do.

Their children, their three little miracles, were in her arms, and she was in Pedro's. The wedding candle that they had brought with them their only light in the darkness. There were more lights behind them, but Alma didn't care about them.

Pedro was breathing hard, which made sense. He must be just as bone-tired as she was, and he was holding up four people. The water made it even more difficult, Alma could feel herself being weighed down by the moisture that clung to her clothes.

"We're going to have a house with two floors. A tower on one side for the boys, a kitchen to make arepas con queso for when we're sick..." Pedro was talking to her. Talking about the life they would have. The lif e he was promising. Alma could picture it already.

"We'll give them such a good life." he said, and Alma found herself nodding. She didn't want to, but she was starting to fall asleep. She could listen to his voice for hours. "We'll point out the clouds in the sky, teach then the names of the stars... We're gonna give them a bright future. A future full of clear skies and warm meals and..."

Pedro heard something. Alma knew it. She instantly felt all the sleep pour out of her body as she heard Pedro scream, "RUN!" She squeezed her babies tight against her chest as Pedro picked up speed.

He was singing, softly and broken, but he was singing. She caught the words, "Ay oruguitas... no se..."

It was too fast. Before she knew it her husband was placing her down on the other side of the river. People were running past them, but Alma felt her legs frozen in place. She knew what she should do. She should run along with the others and get their children to safety.

Pedro had a look in his eyes. The look he got whenever he was planning something. She was frozen as he leaned down and placed three kisses on their babies heads. Then he cupped her cheek with his hand and placed a kiss on her lips.

Her brain shut down. She didn't know what he was doing. What was Pedro doing?

"Te amo mi vida." he said, smiling at her his warm smile. Without another word he turned around and started walking back into the river.

The river was red in a minute.

Then the world was golden.

"I was given a miracle..." Abuela said, her eyes glued to the river like they had been ever since she had started her story. Mirabel stared at her as Abuela continued, tears threatening to choke out her words. "I thought for so long that the magic... the.. everything else... was the miracle that I... Lost sight of who our miracle was for."

Mirabel looked back out at the water, her breath caught in her throat. She thought of the family tree back at Casa. She thought of the portrait of Pedro that had hung in Casita. He had been so young... so very very young when he had died. Bruno had never known him, yet he spoke about him with such a personal knowledge that...

"Mirabel, the miracle was never magic. It wasn't the house, it wasn't the Encanto..." Abuela said, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "The miracle is that you are alive. That any of us are alive. And as long as we are alive we are not broken... You never hurt our family Mirabel. We have been hurt..."

Mirabel couldn't tear her eyes off of Abuela, there was something inside her that wouldn't allow it. She had seen her as a justified monster just an hour ago, yet how could she be a monster when she was so sad?

"Because of me."

Mirabel didn't feel any different about herself. No. Inside she still was hearing Casita fall around her over an over again. But she did feel slightly different about Abuela. She stared at her, a woman who just a few short hours ago had been yelling at her and blaming her for all of her problems, and felt nothing but...

Pity. This feeling was pity.

"Abuela..." she said, holding her hands out towards her. Abuela stared at her hands, then took them gently. Mirabel pulled her up, and said quietly, "I... don't forgive you... yet... But I can see..." She looked out at the river, and stepped into it, pulling Abuela with her.

"You lost your home. Your husband... and now you're worried you'll lose your family as well." Mirabel said, staring into Abuela's eyes. Abuela seemed frozen, stiff, and Mirabel pushed deeper into what she could tell was inside of her. "You've fought hard to make sure that everything was perfect so that... It could never happen again."

Mirabel sighed, and she watched as tears built up in Abuela's eyes. "But now there's something different than what happened fifty years ago... You have a family. A family that isn't just babies." She smiled at her little joke, but Abuela didn't return it. "We are a family because of you. And we might have... issues... but we will stick together and help each other!"

She tightened her hands around Abuela's, and said with finality, "We Madrigals have been torn apart for far too long. It's time we came together and fixed everything. Starting with you!"

Even though part of her told her that it was the last thing she wanted to do, Mirabel threw her arms around Abuela, who stood there motionless for a moment. Then she said in a voice that was so quiet Mirabel wasn't sure she had actually said it at first, "I asked my Pedro for help... and he sent me you..."

After what felt like an eternity Mirabel pulled away from Abuela, who let go of her and cupped her cheeks in her hands. Abuela looked at Mirabel up and down, like it was the first time she had ever seen her. "Mirabel..." she said, but Mirabel shook her head.

"Let's get back to Casa," Mirabel said, taking her hand and leading her back to shore. "We'll get all cleaned up and dried... and we should probably get some food-"

A thundering sound was coming from the forest, and Mirabel froze next to Abuela, then a voice called out from inside the treeline, "MIRABEL MADRIGAL!"