Mirabel's hand burned, as she tugged her way up the vine. She was used to being silent, to being unseen. Abuela would shut her down if she ever disrupted the life of the family. She would show her. She might not have gifts, but she was willing to put in the hours to save their family, unlike Isabela, her layabout sister.

She touched the new tag she'd put on her clothes as she got close to the flower bed her sister was laying on. It was a simple job. A cross, a woman speaking, and a car. The symbol of the secretive unspecial, unceptional society that the villagers had formed. Faith, gossip, and trade, the three pillars of the village. She had always stood up for her family. Now she was ready to stand up for the village.

She swung her legs over the flower covered bed, careful to not make a sound. Her perfect, prim and proper sister was there, mumbling.

Mirabel slowly, quietly, crawled across the bed. She would find out why her sister had betrayed her duties to the town.

"I write poetry and I'm dumb, I'm going to marry you!" spoke a large and dumpy and alive potato. The little marks on its skin were made into a little space, and impossibly, it spoke.

Another smaller potato, wearing a pink petal dress waved little spindly stems around in the air.

"Oh no you don't. I want to be free!" and the little potato. They then punched the other potato. It flew back in an exaggerated way, floating through the air on tendrils of vine.

"My acting career! My nose. I'll never be able to star in a telenovella now. How could you?" Said the large dumpy potato.

The smaller potato swished her hairlike stems back on her head. "I will be the only star of the telenovellas. I will play any role I want, because I will be free!" The small potato then did a loud evil laugh.

Mirabel put her hands on her hips. "Isabela, what the hell? You have duties to do and you're playing with potatoes? Ugly potatoes."

Isabela's head snapped up. She got a fearful look on her face for a moment, which quickly hardened to annoyance.

"I play with dolls. So what? I remember when you got afraid of a capybara and it chased you around the yard and you pissed yourself. You-" She gestured in Mirabel's face with her finger. "-talk about this to no one. Or I'll share all your secrets."

"Capybara's are the scariest animal ever. I was right to run. It wanted to eat me."

"It wanted the Bocadillo in your hand. They love guava. You have nothing. Now get out."

Mirabel shook herself. She was getting distracted.

"I don't care about your potato dolls. I care about the fact that you've been neglecting your duties. The church is barren-"

"They should go get flowers themselves." Isabela said back, her tone sharp.

"The houses smell bad-"

"They should clean their houses and not use flowers to cover the scent."

"And, you promised you'd help Senora Pezmuerto."

Isabela looked guilty, just for a moment, before the mask of casual scorn came back. "Get out."

Vines came down from behind to haul her away. Mirabel lunged forward, to grab Isabela. As she did, the bed swayed, ready to push her towards the vines.

Her fist slammed into Isabela's face. She couldn't lie. It felt good. Both of them toppled off the bed, falling through the air.

Isabela grabbed Mirabel's hair and tugged at her. "How dare you!" Mirabel slapped her hand away, as they landed on a cushion of soft petals. "You ruined my proposal and you're trying to ruin my life."

Isabel flipped a line of petals at Mirabel. Mirabel grabbed them and pushed them into Isabel's mouth, shoving her down against the flowers.

"You had everything. You had the perfect life, perfect partner, perfect gift. And you're wasting it."

Vines yanked Mirabel away from behind, dragging her back. Isabela got up, dusting herself off, and walked forward, fluttering her hands close to herself in perfect, dramatic motions. Flowers thrust up from the ground repeatedly, hitting Isabela's face.

"You think it's easy? I've been stuck being perfect my entire life. I hate him, I hate this pink dress, I hate having to be someone I'm not. I try to have a little corner that's mine, a little deviation that's just me, my potatoes. I can't even make them any more! I'm so stuck in this mess."

"You find it boring having to do the same task again and again day in day out?"

"It's so boring. It's always an act. You have it easy, you lazy mess. You can just do whatever it is you do." She gestured at Mirabel's clothes, covered with symbols of each family member.

Mirabel slowly got to her feet. "You think I have it easy? I've been trampled down by all of you, even though I work so hard to help you all. I wake you up, I prepare all the dishes, I sew your clothes-"

"That was you? I thought it just... happened."

Mirabel stared at Isabela annoyed.

"You think clothes just grow on trees?" Mirabel stared at Isabela.

"Thank you. But then you have to get why I hide away. It's getting worse. I'm being forced into this marriage, and the work is just so repetitive, I hate it so much."

Mirabel spoke. "I know why the miracle is dying. Luisa is feeling weaker, Camille can't control his transformations, and Pepa's magic is getting more and more erratic. There's a reason."

Mirabel pointed her finger at Isabela.

"The reason is you."

"Why do you always hate me? I do everything I can for the family." Isabela said.

"Abuela has told us often enough that our magic is a gift. It's a gift from the land to serve the community. Look, sewing is really boring. You put a needle in and out of a piece clothing again and again and again over hours. You can't stop using thread and start using vines, you can't just ignore color schemes. Pepa's side loves their bright yellows and reds. You can't just randomly add in some purple because you think it would be amazing. You need to stick in your lane."

"It's so boring though. Pink pink pink all day long." Isabela groaned.

"I always do it with Juliet. Or Antonio. Or Dolores. Dolores knows all the best gossip."

Isabela looked down. "She'd tell on me in an instant if she knew. She can't keep a secret."

Mirabel shook her head. "She keeps everyone's secrets. You think she can't hear us now? I bet she's listening to us right now."

A distant squeak could be heard.

Mirabel continued. "The family needs you to be perfect. But, I know a room that no is using where you could do whatever you wanted. I want to see you rise. I want to see what you can do. In private."

Isabela smiled. "Somewhere where no one knows? But there's always someone around. And Abuela has spies everywhere."

"Not here. And Isabela?"

Isabela looked at Mirabel, as Mirabel wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and smacked her square in the face. Isabela collapsed to the ground and screeched in pain. Mirabel shook her wrist out.

"That's for calling me lazy."

The potatoes were a discarded idea for Isabela which didn't make it into the movie. This was pretty fun to write. Sisterly drama.