Her mothers voice had echoed on for years now, casting a net into the ocean that Mirabel was drowning in. Something had shifted. Her mothers voice used to calm the storm, the waves would come to a standstill and Mirabel would be granted a chance to breathe, even if it were for a second. Last night, Julieta's voice was nothing more than a muffle. It stopped nothing. Mirabel was sinking further, nothing to hold on to.
Madness is trying the same thing and expecting different results. Perhaps it was time for her mother to realise there was no saving her. She was, after all meant to be outcast. The Encanto had made it so. She sought after her new lifeline, the razor that would build a barrier and stop her feeling anything at all, forcing her to take a breath. Time froze, burying herself in her bedding, Mirabel shut out the daylight leaking into her room with her covers. Every house has a heart, her bedroom was the result of a severed connection. Stuck, unchanging, the day her world stopped turning. The day she was left behind.
This room is a time capsule. One day, in the far future she would be unearthed from her bed. Maybe the roof would cave in and she would be washed away. That's what she wanted, for the universe to take her some place new. To see how much she was hurting, and take responsibility for the weight she was carrying. She could just float away, still safely tucked in bed. It would be beautiful, to see real stars above her head rather than how she was currently, staring at glow in the dark stickers that still somehow stuck to the ceiling. It was Julieta's idea, to bring light to her room when her door had gone without. It was sweet. Now, Mirabel felt bitter whenever she looked at them. The sky showed no sign of changing seasons.
She shut her eyes tightly, she could build a new home, a new room. In her recurring dreams Mirabel would be rewarded a gift for all her hard work, the Encanto would recognise what a mistake they had made, and how unfairly they had treated her. She fantasied getting a much better gift than everyone else - what exactly that was would change daily - and seeing their faces as they slowly came to know just how she had felt. Sometimes, she would get all their powers at once. Rendering them all redundant. For once, people would ask for help and genuinely mean it, as opposed to just giving her something to do.
"Mirabel, are you okay?"
She didn't care who was asking. She didn't want to speak. "Mirabel?" This may have been a second voice.
Let them wonder. She decided.
The floorboards rattled beneath her, jogging her bed sharply. She shut her eyes tighter, sandwiching her head between two pillows snubbing them. Ever so quietly, she pleaded. "Please, just leave me alone." She croaked.
Casita was stubborn, the bed still rattled occasionally. They weren't as harmonious as Mirabel previously thought. Soon, Mirabel was on the hard floor. A hard thump had led to another cycle of questions barraging at her door. That time, Mirabel mustered the breath to assure she was okay, physically. Only to save them from coming in. Minutes passed, and Mirabel hadn't budged. With another small earthquake, Mirabel was reunited with her bedding. Swiftly after, the windows swung open, fresh air. It was such a small thing, yet the room felt new. 206 bones, Mirabel was tasked with bearing the weight of every single one. Failure is inevitable. And so she lay in the eye of the storm letting the world continue spinning without her.
"Thank you" She whispered, gently patting the floorboards.
"Mirabel?" A pained voice she recognised as Julieta's comes seeping through.
"Can we talk?" Isabela asked some delay, Mirabel couldn't shake the feeling that Isabela was there as moral support for their mother. She had sounded hurt. And in turn, she hurt more. "Just through the door." Isabela urgently noted.
Deep breath.
"You love me as I am" Mirabel said wryly.
"Yes, yes we do." Julieta replied. She was on her knees outside, palm pressed against the bedroom door. "Don't you?" She asked breathlessly.
"I don't."
There was a silence. She could hear shuffling and sniffing outside. Unbeknownst to her, Isabela was comforting Julieta.
"You never asked why." Mirabel continued.
"What?" Her mother asked, voice quavering.
"You all want me to be okay with who I am." Mirabel answered tiredly, tracing the cracks in the floorboards that she was lying on. "Why do I have to change?"
Upon seeing her mother struggle, she took her hand and held it tightly, knowing what Julieta would wish to say, because she felt it too. "You don't have to -" Isabela started
"Why can't the Encanto put things right instead?" Mirabel too sounded on the verge of tears. The elder sister was stumped.
The pause felt like forever.
"Mirabel, I need you to hear this." Julieta tapped lightly on the door. "I spent so many nights begging and bargaining with them, believe me I did. I'm on your side mija, I hate seeing you unhappy."
"You did?" Mirabel sniffled,
"She did." Isabela confirmed. "I heard her. Every one of us has asked you know, we see your pain Mirabel."