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Luisa had been swallowed whole, pulled under by the cold ocean which had lapped at her feet since she was eight years old. These were frightening episodes, where she lost all of her moorings and could not keep her emotions at bay.
Weak.
Worthless.
Failure.
Useless.
Broken.
Before, they had been rare - she could feel them building and stave them off until she was safe in her room. Alone, where nobody would see. She had been strong enough, then.
But Luisa wasn’t strong anymore.
She was weak, and broken, and everyone would see.
Dropping the stone had been bad enough. But she couldn’t get UP. She was supposed to lift mountains, and she couldn’t lift herself. Her muscles flared with agony, they clenched and spasmed out of her control. The enormity of her failure, of her helplessness, made her cold with fear - creeping ice in contrast to the white-hot pangs shooting from her back.
She needed to get up. She couldn’t get up.
She COULDN’T. She couldn’t protect her family, she couldn’t lift a pebble, she couldn’t do anything, she couldn’t control herself. She was in her body, but disconnected, buffeted on dark waves inside her mind. All she could hear was her rapid breathing and the roar of her blood in her ears - or was it the crash of the ocean?
Useless.
Broken.
Everyone will see. Everyone will know.
All you do is cry.
Worthless.
Broken.
A burden.
This should have been done days ago.
Luisa will never be strong enough.
The floor cracking, rocks tumbling.
Luisa can’t stop it.
PAIN. This is what pain is.
This is what life is, now and forever.
Weak.
She’s so tired.
Fighting the waves is hard.
Exhausting.
Her arms are too heavy. She is made of stone. She wishes she were truly stone. Stone doesn’t feel, and Luisa feels too much.
Everything is too heavy.
She can’t keep her head above the water. In a detached part of her mind, she knows she should .
This is an overreaction to dropping a pebble. It’s ridiculous, shameful, weak… but the shame only makes her feel heavier, and there is dark water all around her and she cannot tell which way is up.
Maybe this is what it’s like to die? Maybe it would be better if she did.
Maybe she is dead, and hell is the black ocean.
The Amazing Luisa Madrigal, who couldn’t pick up a rock.
Who can’t do anything.
Everyone can see.
Luisa can’t stop it. All she can do is drown.
*****
Time didn’t exist in the dark ocean. Luisa couldn’t be sure how long she had been choking before she noticed something else - pressure on her hands, pressure she could feel past the pins-and-needles, making small circles on the backs of her hands.
“...I’m here, kiddo. I’m going to keep talking until you can hear me. Just listen, okay? Try to hear my voice. You’re safe, come back, just listen, you’re safe…”
It wasn’t a voice she knew. Or was it? She could feel hands holding hers.
Someone was breathing VERY loudly. Or was it her?
“Hey, yeah, that’s good. You just keep listening, there’s a good girl. You’re safe. Try and focus on my voice, okay princesa ? You’re safe, it’s okay…”
Luisa remembered she had a body again. She had hands, and someone was holding them. She wasn’t in an ocean. She could feel a rock digging into her hip. She could feel the fire burning along her spine. Why hadn’t the water put it out?
Luisa heard a soft mewl, like the whimper of a wounded animal. Was that her?
“Shh. It’s okay. I know it hurts, but you’re safe. Just focus on my voice, I’m right here and you’re safe.”
Luisa thought the voice was connected to the hands. Male. Scratchy. Familiar?
She was at work. She’d been at work. Everyone will see .
She tried to jerk her hands away, tried to pull away, tried to hide, but her body didn’t want to respond correctly. Another of those animal-sounds - it was her throat that made them.
“Hey, hey, shhh, shh… Luisa, Luisa, you’re almost there, come back. You’re safe.”
The hands holding hers had a greyish tone beneath their olive complexion. Luisa blinked, trying to focus.
“That’s right, that’s good. You’re safe, kiddo.”
Bile rose in her throat, and she tried to pull away again but her back wouldn’t move - the muscles had clenched up tight.
“Hurts..”
“Yeah, kid. Getting hurt is scary. It’s okay, though. You’re safe. Stay with me, okay? Just stay here.”
A sallow face, with weary lines and stubble. Green eyes, sad but kind. Eyes she used to know.
How did he not know what she was?
Luisa felt a hand on her cheek, turning her face back. That’s when she realized she had looked away.
The eyes were still kind.
“Try to stay with me. Old Bruno’s here, yeah? It’s just Luisa and Bruno, and it’s safe.”
“ Lo sie- ...” She trailed off, faltering.
“Shh, shh, nena , just stay.” Bruno reached out to smooth her hair. “I’m here for as long as you need.”
Luisa swallowed, and looked around - past her Tio, who continued to speak gentle reassurances. His words landed softly, like falling sand.
Tio Felix had been nearby and no, he was gone… he had gotten Tio Bruno. Oh no… her sisters, and Mama, and Papa… did he tell them? Everyone knows . She tried to pull away, frantic,
“No, no, mi cielito, it’s okay. Nobody is upset, okay? Do you want your mama?” Bruno pushed back one of Luisa’s curls, pulling her attention before she could spiral again. She shook her head.
“That’s alright. I’ll stay here as long as you need. But once you’re ready, I'll get her. Do you remember what happened?”
“Hurt.”
“And it’s been a long time since you’ve gotten hurt, kiddo. That would be scary for anyone. Does it still hurt?” Bruno asked with seemingly endless patience. Luisa sharply remembered being small, when her tio would scoop her up in his arms, and she could hide against his ruana when the world seemed too big and too scary.
“I dropped a rock.” She confessed - first the donkeys, then the piano, now this. Smaller and smaller things falling beyond her reach. Her stomach twisted, but she felt too exhausted for much beyond a dull throb of shame.
“Well, you’ve carried about a hundred this week. When you are ready, we should let Julieta see what’s wrong.”
“Everybody saw.” Luisa replied, miserably.
“We didn’t. Felix heard you cry out, and found you down. He called for help.” Bruno paused. “And he made sure you had some privacy. It's just you and me until you’re ready, princesa . My cuñado is a good man.”
“I..” Luisa didn’t know how to explain it. She’d had… episodes… before, but they had typically been months apart, and private . Everything was such a mess.
“Happens to me too, kid. Sometimes the world is too much.” Bruno said reassuringly.
“...You?”
“Yeah. You aren’t alone. Comprende ? You don’t have to face them alone. We love you, Luisa. And we’re here for you.”
Luisa’s face creased and her lip wobbled.
“Shh. I’d hug you, but I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already are.”
Luisa dropped her gaze, turning her face away and instinctively wrapping her arms around her torso.
“Aw, kid.” And Bruno hugged her, anyway.