Fighting Flashbacks

Alma POV:

I woke up slowly, the amount of sleep I was getting was suspicious. Where was Casita and her alarm clock?

Casita.

No no no no no

I sat up in my bed- no. Not my bed. I was the Guzman's house. In their guest room.

That means Casita's really gone- Pedro's gifts- the magic- everythings gone! The Enchanto's in danger again! The rioters will come!

I tried to steady my breathing. I assured myself, the riots stopped years ago. The horsemen won't come back. They're outside the Encanto.

The mountains are down! Our protection is gone!

You don't know that. And there's only one way to find the truth.

With a count to three I got out of the bed. I looked out the window, the mountain range my focus.

"Still there." I sighed with relief "Gracias El Señor." Some were cracked or had landslides, but the mountains were there and that was all that mattered.

When I lowered my gaze, I saw some homes in the town also were cracked or had toppled roofs. That mattered too. We'd need to fix it.

I got ready, wearing a green dress Señora Guzman graciously lent me, and went downstairs. She was there drinking coffee and reading her Bible. I tried not to disturb her, but she noticed me.

"Buenos díaz Alma!" Señora Guzman waved at me with a smile. "How did you sleep?"

"Well. I slept well." I replied, "Thank you for letting us stay here."

"After all you do for the town? It's nothing." She closed her Bible. "Anyway, do you want some coffee? Breakfast?" She asked, standing up.

I hesitated for a second. She hastily added, "I'll be making some for me and Jeremiah anyway."

I smiled, "In that case, I would love some." Some breakfast would be good before a long day of work. I saw cracks in some sidewalks and fallen balconies on our way here last night. Those would need to be fixed straightaway. Not to mention – Bruno's tower cracked and collapsed, crushing the rest of the house under its weight. – Casita…

"…Is Bruno still sleeping?"

"I haven't seen him." Mrs. Guzman said, getting cooking supplies out. "Should I wake him up?"

"No, no. Let him sleep." I wasn't ready to see Bruno yet. And I'm glad I didn't. My mind was full of questions and accusations towards my son. What possessed him to blow out the candle? Did he not care for his family? For the Encanto?!

I stewed in my conflicted feelings while Mrs. Guzman made breakfast. I don't remember what it was, I was so busy trying to push memories out of my head. Rumbling and shaking, having to run away, the house falling apart, my baby Julieta crying and helpless.

There was no time to dwell on the past. Last night or twenty years ago.

I got up halfway through breakfast, saying a hasty goodbye to Señora Guzman before leaving to find something I could help with. It would be easier and more useful than letting emotions eat at me.

Work was easy to find. I joined a line that was passing materials to a building project. I reflected on how we were like a little bucket brigade. Except we were rebuilding after a 'fire' instead of trying to put it out.

Pedro and I watched as a man threw a torch into our neighbor's house.

My breathing quickened.

The building quickly came alive with flame.

I needed to stop these memories, but I was engulfed by them.

There was no time. Just had to grab my kids. A blanket. Some food. Had to run. It wasn't safe. It's not safe.

Without even thinking, I grabbed the stone I was holding to my chest like it was my babies. I backed out of the line, breathing hard, barely comprehending where I was but just knowing I had to go somewhere. Anywhere to get away.

"Alma, are you okay?" The man next to me asked. I had halted the work, and he put the supplies he was carrying down so he could comfort me. The young woman on my other side did the same.

I couldn't choke out any words, so I bobbed my head. Not sure if it looked like a nod or a head shake.

The woman put a hand on my shoulder, "Just try to breathe, okay. It was a crazy night last night, but we'll get through it."

"Yeah, we always do." The man said, raising a hand in the air triumphantly. "Weather it be earthquakes, storms, or hurricanes, we always make it through."

It took a little bit, but I was able to get a handle on reality. The fear slowly subsided and I was able to let go of the rock I had a death grip on.

"Feeling any better?" The man said. He had rejoined the supply line while the woman sat with me.

"Yes." I nodded. "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry I slowed down the construction."

The woman patted my shoulder. "It's alright Alma. You didn't slow down anything. What's important is that you're alright."

"I'm fine now. Really." I said, standing up on wobbly legs. "Thank you for caring for me. I think I can help now though."

The couple looked at each other, uncertain. The woman turned to me, "I think it's better if you rest. You probably need it after last night."

After a short back and forth I realized I was on the losing side, so I relented. I told them I'd go take a nap, but n my turbulent heart I knew rest was the last thing I needed. A mere moment alone with my thoughts would destroy me.

Why were these old memories resurfacing?

I did not know, and I decided I did not care. I found myself walking up the crest of the hill where the ruins of Casita lay.

I stood for a while on the crest of the hill. No memories, no thoughts, just my empty mind soaking up the wreckage of my beloved house and the desecrated inheritance from my husband. Tears, then sobs came out of me. It was too much. I covered my mouth in the hope that by covering the signs of my pain, I could somehow make the hurt go away.

There were people all around. Mostly men diligently cleaning the mess. No one noticed the woman grieving the loss of her husband and home. It truly felt the same way it did 20 years before. I suppose I hadn't got over it.

But just like the first time, people needed me to be strong for them. I wiped my eyes and pulled myself together enough to look for work to do. I saw a familiar green ruana higher up the hill. Bruno.

Bruno stood in my room, holding the blown-out candle. Bruno had went in his room after Julieta, and when she returned she was half concious and barely able to move. Bruno's tower fell on Casita, crushing her under its weight.

This was all his fault. He blew out the candle. He wasn't able to protect Julieta. He broke the house. He put the family and the Encanto in such a vulnerable position. All so he could get rid of his gift.

How selfish.

"Bruno Madrigal!" I stomped over to him to give a piece of my mind. "Bruno, what are you doing here?!"

Author's comments:

I was planning to have this chapter have the argument between Bruno and Alma, but it just ended up being an in-depth exploration of Alma's trauma. She needs therapy and better coping skills man.

Anyways, this upcoming fight is fighting me when I try to put it to paper, so I have a question for you readers: how much would you hate me if I skipped it and just have the aftermath? Bruno and Alma would probably give a summary to the girls, so you wouldn't be left with nothing, but I understand how much the hype will drop.

I will try to get this next chapter written, fight-filled, and published in a reasonable time tho.

Thanks for reading!