Chapter Text
Isabela's eyes strayed from the butterfly she had been looking at, met by the sight of the dining table cluttered with plates full of food. Her family of ten surrounded the table as they ate outside for desayuno.
"Isabela!"
Isabela snapped her head up, meeting the eyes of her Abuela.
"Isabela, were you even listening?" Abuela said sternly, although there was an edge of concern there.
"Lo siento, Abuela. I think I'm just a bit tired is all. I must've dozed off." Isabela whispered, fingers lightly brushing against her temple as she looked around at her family, each of them giving her odd and slightly worried looks.
"That's alright, mi flor. Just try to pay attention, sí? I was just saying how happy I am with your wedding tomorrow! We have much to do for final preparations." Abuela smiled warmly at her, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
Right. Her wedding.
Isabela mustered up a smile for her Abuela thinking, happy, excited, content, as if to infuse the emotions into her expression. Even though she knew for a fact that she could never quite manage to fake it right, no matter how much she had practiced.
But no one noticed. They never did.
From beside her, Camilo shifted into Mariano, a strong and handsome figure that made her stomach twist itself into knots. Her primo gave her an overly suave smile, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Mariano Madrigal just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it, mi flor?" He drawled, taking her limp hand in his and planting a slobbery kiss on the back of it.
Isabela's face drew up in disgust, ripping her hand away and using her vines to spill a bowl of mushy avocado into his lap.
Camilo screeched, jumping to his feet and once again in his gangly teenage body as he tried in vain to wipe the mess off his clothes.
The rest of the day came to a close with impossible speed.
A constant barrage of people and noise that faded into a dull roar, people tugging on her beautiful, perfect wedding dress as she obediently stood poised in front of a large ornate mirror while they made sure the tailoring was impeccable. Seamstresses a flurry of motion as they flit around her, pining here and there accompanied by the droning whirring of their sewing machines.
Her Mamá and Tía bickered over what jewelry she would wear, even though it had already been picked out weeks ago, God knows why they were trying to change it the day before.
Gold and silver jewelry passed between their hands, adorned in jewels like amethyst and rose quartz. But then there was a sudden flash of a blue-green stone that piqued her interest. Turquoise, or maybe malachite? But all too soon it was gone, replaced by purples and pinks.
Women, men, and children congratulating her and telling her how excited they were for the wedding. Her padres cooed over her about how grown up their little girl was, smothering her in affection.
Luisa practically bawled when she saw her, scooping her into a too-tight hug and saying how happy she was for her.
Dolores whispered a simple, yet genuine congratulations as she recounted how excited Mariano was from within his own house.
Bruno was not far behind with his own quiet congratulations, giving her two thumbs up in a way that only he could make look awkward as two rats squeaked from each shoulder, presumably saying their own congratulations.
Her Tía and Tío fussed over her, the former covering her smiling fake, it was fake face in kisses and the latter spun her in his enthusiasm.
Antonio asked her all sorts of questions about marriage. Asking her how long it would take, if she was going to live with Mariano now, why everyone was making such a big deal about it, and if there was going to be dessert at the wedding. And Isabela let him, his constant stream of questions a welcome change from just how overwhelmingly happy everyone was.
"I don't know exactly how long, but it'll be long. (A frown.) – No, I'm not moving in with Mariano, he's moving in with us. (A scrunched nose and, "Another person to share the bathroom with?") – It's a wedding, people love weddings. (Well, I don't.") – Yes, my Mamí is making a lot of food, and a cake. ("Yes!")
Abuela, with her loving words telling her how beautiful she looked, how perfect. How blessed their union was and how wonderful it was going to be.
(Something was missing.)
And now Isabela laid in her bed, finally alone.
Sleeping meant an escape from this awful, hopeless feeling that had begun to overtake her. But not sleeping meant just a few more hours with her freedom, just a little bit more time before she would officially give her happiness away for the Encanto.
To sleep or not to sleep.
But as the quiet of the night marched on, Isabela's exhaustion took the choice from her. Surrounded by the scent of hundreds of roses, her vision a haze of cheerful pink, she dozed off into a fitful sleep.
Morning came too soon, too.
She was woken with a soft knock at her door from Dolores, just like every morning.
(Was that right?)
Too soon, she was shoved into her wedding dress, her long silky hair falling into perfect waves, and the barest amount of makeup to highlight her features.
"You ready for this, mija?" Her Papá grinned down at her, a hand placed on her shoulder as they stood outside the church doors.
No, I'll never be ready.
But Isabela simply nodded, trying her best to smile as she swallowed around the knot in her throat.
"Let's just hope I don't trip!" He stage-whispered, taking one big dramatic breath before the grand church doors were swinging open.
Isabela walked down the aisle, head held high and posture impeccable as she glided. So many smiling and adoring faces followed her. Isabela tried to keep her gaze forward, towards her future, but a streak of teal briefly caught her eye in the crowd.
But as Isabela shuffled to a stop, she couldn't see it anymore. All of the guests were wearing shades of lilac and a pretty peony pink with highlights of cream, nothing else.
"C'mon, mi amor. Only a couple more steps and you'll be there." Her Pá whispered through a big smile, nudging her forward to start walking again.
Isabela let herself be led forward, feeling as if her mind was floating away from itself.
When she tuned back in next, it was from Mariano's side at the altar.
Mariano's vows were long. His voice flowed in his deep timber, resonating inside the otherwise silent church. His words were flowery, so poetic and full of devotion and love.
Isabela's vows were perfect. Perfect in a way that was impersonal. She doubted anyone could tell the difference, as much as she had buried her personality, her hopes and dreams deep within herself.
"I can't imagine standing here with anyone else, except you." I don't want to be here.
"I knew from the first day that we met that you were the one." I don't want to be a wife.
"And I'm so glad that I get to spend the rest of my life with you." I want this to end.
"I hope that our future togeth–" Isabela suddenly choked, because in the crowd she caught a glimpse of black curls as someone in a teal dress turned away, walking towards the closed church doors.
"Mi amor? Is everything alright?" Mariano asked in a low tone, hand reaching for her.
People were beginning to murmur as Isabela stayed petrified, mouth agape, watching as the figure slipped out of the church, although no one else seemed to have noticed the stranger.
When Mariano's hand made contact with her own, she pulled away taking a few steps back to the horror of their guests, gasps breaking the silence.
Mariano looked so hurt in that moment, hand drawn back to his chest as if she had burned him. But he also looked incredibly concerned, concerned for her.
"Isabela…"
But Isabela just shook her head, jaw clenched and chin quivering as she continued to back away.
Arguing was beginning to come from the stands where her family was, Isabela risking a fearful glance to see her Abuela and Mamá whisper-shouting on what they should do.
Oh God… what have I done.
And suddenly, she was running. Her heels clacked harshly on the linoleum, the train of her wedding dress lashing behind her.
She could hear yells for her to come back, pleading and screaming. A cacophony of noise as people began to talk in an uproar, but Isabela ignored them in her mortification as she focused on just getting out.
Isabela hit the heavy doors of the church, struggling to push them open as townsfolk began to reach for her, their hands like claws as they begged for her to calm down.
Just as the doors started to budge, a booming voice rang out.
"Isabela!"
Down the aisle opposite from her was Abuela. She stood tall, expression grim with a fire burning in her eyes.
"That is enough of this nonsense! Don't you dare take another step." she warned.
But Isabela just shook her head vehemently, beginning to cry as she gave one last heave before she was out of the church, leaning all her weight on the doors to quickly close them behind her.
Isabela was panting, her mind was numb but her body felt like a live wire. In the second she took to catch her breath, a glimpse of that same dress from before disappeared behind a building up ahead.
Isabela glanced around, barely thinking before she was kicking off her heels and running towards where the figure had gone. Turn after turn, block after block she would only catch the tail end of this person. As hard as she ran she never seemed to catch up.
Why was she even following them? What the actual hell was she doing, running away at the altar like that? Was she actually insane?
But chasing this figure was the only way she felt she could ignore everything else, her ever growing panic at what she had just done.
Where was this person even going? She thought between labored breaths. Her feet were beginning to hurt from the gravely dirt of the town and she had most definitely ruined the train of her dress by now.
Isabela ran. Each barefooted step carried her further and further from the accursed fate she had escaped from, however briefly it may be. Through the center of town, past the marketplace. Past the farms. Past the schoolhouse on the edge of town.
God, the entire family is going to kill me. Is it even worth going home after this? She had no idea what she was going to do, how she was going to fix all of this. Maybe she could say she felt really sick and that's why she ran? No, that wouldn't work…
Isabela hadn't realized that she was in the jungle now, stumbling over a root bringing her to a jerking stop. She bent over, hands on her knees for a minute as she took large gasping breaths of air.
When Isabela looked back up she saw that she was in a clearing, the thick canopy of trees making the area darker than it had been in town. Little beams of light managed to shine through the leaves.
And there, up ahead was a figure cloaked by shadows.
Their back was to her, the person, a young woman or a girl she was now realizing, wasn't wearing a dress like she had thought, but instead a white blouse and a skirt with ombre shades of teal that got darker towards the bottom.
This girl had thick, curly black hair that barely reached the base of her neck and her skin was a warm medium brown. She was short. Not overly so, but still short. Her brain numbly inputted the details of the stranger, giving her pause.
She was familiar. The little detail she could make out, the shape of her silhouette alone was uncannily familiar to her.
Wait…
Mirabel.
That was Mirabel. Her hermana.
…What?
How could she have forgotten her own sister? How had it taken her this long to realize this person, in a teal embroidered skirt with curly hair, was her sister?
And how had she only realized until just now that she was what was missing the whole day?
"Mirabel!" Isabela shouted without thinking, taking a stumbling step towards her hermana.
"Mirabel! What's happening? Why are you out here, why did you leave?" The questions continued to tumble from her mouth, "Abuela is going to be so mad that you ruined my wedding!" She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.
Because of course it was Mirabel! She was so selfish to have left in the middle of her vows like that. For having distracted her and made her ruin everything she had worked so hard for. And now how was she supposed to explain this? Because of course, it was always up to her to fix Mirabel's endless string of mistakes.
But as Isabela seethed, waiting for Mirabel to turn around and start whining with whatever dumb excuse she could come up with for ruining her life, there was nothing.
Mirabel did not respond. She sort of just… stood there.
Suddenly losing her anger, she called out, "Mirabel…?"
This wasn't right. It didn't make sense. How had she not seen Mirabel at all the last few days? Isabela felt that she should be absolutely livid for what Mirabel did, but she just felt… unsettled.
Mirabel made her feel unsettled.
Then, she began to notice things she hadn't before.
Like how impossibly still Mirabel was. It was beyond her posture being stiff, Mirabel didn't even seem to be breathing. Her shoulders did not rise and fall with each intake of breath. Her hair did not move with the chilling wind that passed by them. And she was deathly silent.
Wrong.
Mirabel wasn't a quiet person. Her skirt cut through the air with a sort of thwip-thwip noise when she danced or ran (always running for some reason). Her accordion, (and what a Mirabel instrument to play) was always incredibly grating. Her voice, even more so. She groaned, she laughed, she sighed, she sang, she yelled. Mirabel's reactions were uncontrolled, volatile, and so unlike her own.
But Mirabel was doing none of that right now. She was so very silent. So very still. It was as if someone had frozen her in time, like she was a photograph placed into the forest, somehow both so lifelike and lifeless.
Wrong.
"Mirabel this isn't– this isn't fucking funny." Isabela choked out, desperate for a response, desperate for Mirabel to do or say anything.
Still, nothing.
"Mirabel, you're freaking me out right now." She said weakly, her fear deepening.
But this was her sister, if Mirabel could just turn around, if she could just see her face…
Isabela took a step forward.
Mirabel took a step back.
Isabela flinched back with a scream. But Mirabel did not move again. Isabela felt incredibly stupid in that moment for being scared of her baby sister.
And yet the fear did not leave.
Mirabel's movement had been so sudden, impossibly fast and jerky in motion. It had been unnatural.
With her one step forward and Mirabel's one step back, they were now two steps closer to each other.
The shortened distance had brought Mirabel into the light.
Wrong.
Isabela was paralyzed.
Because there, as Mirabel's dark silhouette had become unveiled in the morning light, she was greeted by something she hadn't been expecting.
Mirabel was hurt. Mirabel was beyond hurt, she was– she was dying, she had to be!
The white of her blouse was stained with ruby red blood, blood that came in big, uneven splotches and long trails. The skin she could see, her legs and her arms, were a mismatch of flayed pink skin and deep tears, the flesh sagging and drooping awkwardly.
Mirabel's hands were held loosely by her sides, and with Mirabel's back still to her she could see how the pads of her fingers dripped thick, coagulated blood, and how her fingers themselves were shredded at the tips.
Mirabel's skirt, her dorky and stupid skirt with its embroidered jaguar and flowers and butterflies was practically torn to ribbons.
Wrong.
"Mirabel?!"
But again, Mirabel did not make a sound.
Isabela, one step forward. Mirabel, one step back.
Pause.
A shaky, fearful breath.
Again, Isabela took one step forward. And Mirabel, one step back.
They were so close now. Isabela could just reach out and touch her. But being so close only brought the gorey details of her baby sister's–oh god, no–condition into clarity.
Full body chills, an uncomfortable roiling in her stomach. Head so incredibly light, as if in the next blink she could collapse.
"Oh, Mirabel, what happened to you…" Isabela cried, her hand clenched in the fabric of her dress over her heart.
The rips in her flesh were numerous, and they looked as if someone had taken a machete to her skin– or maybe something had savagely ripped through her flesh. None of this made any sense. It was as if she had been brutalized by some kind of beast. Man or animal, she did not know.
How did this even happen?
Mirabel was right there and she had to do something, she had to get Mirabel to their Mamá, or maybe just hold her under the immense amount of pain she must be in. But it felt like some kind of force, some kind of dark and heavy presence was keeping her fixed in place.
Isabela's arm rose, hand outstretched before her, slowly, slowly… moving towards Mirabel. Her hand continued its slow ascent, then her fingers were brushing against Mirabel's bloody, torn, destroyed, shoulder.
Wrong.
And as her fingers grazed against Mirabel she felt an awful pull in her gut, her world passing by in a flash of colors as it felt like she was suddenly falling hundreds of feet all at once. The jungle was gone, her world replaced by a dark and murky void as she plummeted.
Isabela screamed in mortal terror, hands clawing wildly at the air as she tried to upright herself, tried to stop this horrible descent as she continued to fall further and further. The heavy, foreboding feeling from before grew stronger. It ate away at her very being, a dark pit of despair forming inside of herself that threatened to consume her entirely.
But no matter how much she flailed, or screamed, or cried it only continued.
Down, down, down she fell.
"Isabela."
Then, all at once it stopped.
And she was back home. Back at the stupid dining table, and what the hell was happening?
"Isabela!"
Again, it was Abuela.
But Isabela didn't care, because it felt like a noose had been tightened around her neck and it felt like she wasn't getting enough air and she didn't know how to get rid of this awful feeling of dread, and somehow she still felt as if she was falling.
Now as she looked up she could see everyone staring at her, and people were starting to talk and, oh god she didn't think she could handle this right now, please not now.
Suddenly there were hands, too many hands, touching her shoulders, her arms, her hair, everywhere, and it was too much.
She was gasping now, her breaths short and sharp in her aching lungs as she tried desperately to get herself under control.
Please stop.
She needed control.
It's too much.
She just needed control!
But she couldn't get it, not when her mother's face was drawn in panic, mouthing words that Isabela couldn't hear under the sound of her own beating heart that was entirely too loud and too fast. Not when her Papí, Tía, Tíos, primos, hermana, and Abuela all looked so terrified.
So many people, all vying for her attention begging for her to tell them what was wrong. Pleading with her, when she was incapable of even helping herself.
Just go away, just go away.
Leave me alone.
"Go away!"
Before her eyes, her familia's faces, her Mamí's face, dissolved into a dark mist of fog.
Everything, all the pleading voices, all of the hands disappeared.
Isabela was alone.
…And back in the jungle.
Isabela slowly unfurled herself from the ball she had curled herself into to look around herself. She was in the jungle again, but not in the same spot she had been in earlier. It was now dusk, and there was no Mirabel. Just herself and the towering trees around her, the animals still chirping and cawing normally as if Isabela wasn't stuck in some sort of purgatory.
The sound of a branch snapping behind her quickly stole her attention away from her new surroundings.
Crunch.
Snap.
Isabela warily rose to her feet, subconsciously hiding herself behind a tree as she peered through the dark, straining to find the source of the noise. Her breath puffed out in a cold mist in front of her as the sound of careful footfalls drew closer.
Crunch-crunch.
Crunch-crunch.
Snap.
It was unmistakably a person from the rhythm of the steps, accompanied by a quiet, gasping breathing.
The person sounded panicked, as if they were the one that should be afraid, not her.
And then, there was Mirabel.
The Mirabel she remembered, free of life-threatening injuries and torn clothes. This Mirabel was unscathed, her clothes rumpled but not ruined.
"Mirabel!" Isabela shouted, running towards her sister to sweep her into a hug but just as she was going to make contact, it was as if she ran into an invisible wall.
Falling hard on her back, Isabela laid gasping for the next couple of beats but quickly shook it off to try to reach Mirabel again.
Mirabel herself was paying no attention to her, eyes wide in panic and taking shallow breaths as she hid behind a large bush.
"Mirabel, what's happening?!"
Isabela reached to touch Mirabel's shoulder, but again that invisible barrier did not allow her.
Denied the comfort of being able to embrace her sister, Isabela hugged her arms to herself and kneeled as close to her hermana as the invisible barrier would allow.
Then, came another sound.
It was faint at first, a dull thudding against the dirt and grass of the forest floor.
th—thump. th—thump. th—thump.
Mirabel's breath hitched, making a choked sound of fear that Isabela had never heard her sister make before. Mirabel's eyes darted around wildly, as if searching for something as she stayed squatted behind the bush.
The sound began to get louder, and Mirabel only became more frantic.
Th–thump, th–thump, th–thump.
Mirabel stood on shaking legs, still bent in an odd crouch as she walked further into the jungle. As they walked, the sound of water crashing against stone became apparent as they drew closer to a river. Her eyes caught onto something, a small outcropping of rocks that Mirabel practically threw herself on.
Arms and legs scrabbling for purchase, she heaved herself onto the surface and laid flat to hide behind it.
Th-Thump, Th-Thump, Th-Thump!
Then, she saw it.
A black stead, with eyes that seemed to glow against the dark expanse of the jungle. It was impossibly large, like no other horse she had ever seen. Thick cords of muscle rippling under its obsidian black hide, mane whipping behind itself wildly under its own incredible speed. It whinied a terrible, shrieking scream into the night, spittle flying and breath fogging in the cold air.
And as it drew ever closer Isabela saw its rider, a large man whose form moved like smoke. The man raised a glinting, silver machete above his head and Isabela's heart contracted in a suffocating fear.
Her mouth parted in a silent scream, her body frozen.
The man's form shifted, collapsing onto itself as he became something half his previous height. From the smoke a large, wild cat burst forth. The cat, just like the horse, was an unearthly creature of wicked proportions. Its claws tore into the soft earth, propelling itself forward. A wicked yowl revealed sharp fangs created to tear flesh from bone.
Again and again Mirabel's pursuer seemed to shift in and out from the man on the horse to the jaguar. He was so close now, so close that she could smell the stench of blood and death and-
Mirabel screamed.
Then, Mirabel went silent.
---
After what felt like an eternity of Isabela sobbing into her bent knees she warily lifted her head. Her eyes ached from crying but she could see that again she was back in that horrible void. But this time, she was no longer falling.
"Please stop…" Isabela cried out, her voice wailing into the expanse of emptiness.
She sat with her head on her knees, watching as the world slowly began to rematerialize around her.
Trees built themselves from the ground up, first just small, pale stumps that grew taller and wider, as if brick by brick. Then, as they rose far above her head to their normal height dark, coarse bark sprouted, encasing each tree.
Roots spread underneath the inky black void, burrowed into nothing. Then, dirt came into place until Isabela could feel the softness underneath herself.
A bright blue sky seemed to shimmer into existence, replacing the nothingness from before. Soft, fluffy white clouds added depth to this false world.
Then, as if a switch had been flicked, the blue sky suddenly became dark and the jungle came to life all at once. Where there had been no sound before there was now an ambience of life. The buzzing of bugs, chittering of animals. Crickets singing in the dark. The scent of rich, wet soil and greenery. Winds that rustled the foliage surrounding her.
Isabela could've been convinced that the void had never even happened with how normal the world seemed now.
A single blink, and Mirabel was back.
Wrong.
Not screaming, but silent. Standing impossibly still like the first time. And again, with her back to her. Bathed in silver moonlight.
"Please, Mirabel…" Isabela keened, unable to even lift herself from the ground.
Again, Mirabel did not respond.
A muscle in Mirabel's back twitched beneath her stained blouse. It was a motion so miniscule, so unimportant in any other scenario. Just a twitch, but it was one of the only signs of life Isabela had seen from her amidst her unnatural stillness.
Another odd twitch, then her shoulder blades seemed to ripple under the fabric of her shirt.
Wrong.
Finally, finally Mirabel began to turn. But it was so agonizingly slow. The motion began in her waist as the fabric stretched to accommodate the movement. Then, her shoulders, the torn flesh of her arms reflecting grotesquely in the moon's light. The shift finally followed through to her neck. Isabela could see the way the muscles seemed to strain at the movement, veins bulging unnaturally.
And as Isabela's apprehension came to a peak, Mirabel's head began to turn. Bit by bit Mirabel's face was revealed. Dark, curly hair that obscured her face. The curve of her jaw and the fullness of her cheeks. The arm of thin green glasses.
Until finally a singular eye was revealed. Isabela could barely even see half of her face, but what she saw striked unimaginable fear in her heart. She scrambled backwards from her position on the ground, hands buried in the dirt as she gasped.
It was one, just one eye.
But. It. Was. Wrong.
Mirabel's partial gaze bore into her from the corner of her eye, and it was paralyzing in its intensity. It shone an eerie gold that pierced through the darkness, her expression unnaturally flat. And the lens of her circular glasses that she could see had a large, awful crack with tears in her flesh that weeped awful blood.
And as dark brown met gold, Isabela's mind was flooded with memories that had lay dormant.
Mirabel, missing.
Searching.
A letter. (A goodbye.)
Blood spilt on the grey stone of a rockslide.
A week spent waiting.
Through the jungle.
A bloody handprint.
A body under a tree. Broken glasses. Torn skirt.
A funeral.
Mirabel was dead.
Mirabel was dead!
The rider, the beast-!
It had all been real.
Mirabel was gone.
And yet, this– this corpse stood before her, eye shining and flesh torn.
Isabela lay frozen in the cool dirt, her mouth parted in a silent scream.
Mirabel– no, that thing, began to turn back around in a slow, stilted motion as if to walk away.
"Wait!" Isabela shouted in a strained voice.
It turned back towards her, still only bearing half its face to her.
"Please don't go…" She begged, moving to stand on weak legs.
But its expression never changed, not showing the slightest indication of emotion or understanding as Isabela shook under its unearthly gaze.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I should've done more, I should've been there for you! I'm so sorry, Mirabel! Just please don't leave me again!" Isabela screamed, taking faltering steps forward.
Its cracked, blue-tinged lips parted before befalling low, rasping words that froze Isabela in place.
"You killed me."
Three words.
Three syllables.
And Isabela was falling.
---
Isabela woke with a jolt, feeling as if her consciousness had been slammed back into her body with brutal force.
Her breathing was erratic, taking large gasping breaths of air that did nothing to fill the empty space in her chest. Her shoulders rose and fell harshly as she sat up in bed, head bent over her spread legs as she shook violently.
Isabela clutched her chest over her heart, still gasping when something grabbed lightly onto her shoulder. Although the touch had been gentle, Isabela still jumped away from it, falling backwards off her lowered bed.
"Lo siento, lo siento… It's just me, Dolores." A whispering voice came from above her, Isabela opening her eyes that had been clenched shut. But even though Dolores' expression was kind and she had her hands in front of herself in a placating gesture, Isabela still didn't seem to be able to breathe.
"Está bien, Isa." Dolores slowly approached her, as if she were a frightened animal. Lowering herself to the petal-covered ground, Dolores kneeled next to Isabela. When she reached out again, Isabela flinched away from her touch, her eyes glazed over.
Dolores drew her hands back, even though she wanted nothing more than to be able to hug her prima close.
"Okay, Isa can you try to match your breathing to mine?"
Isabela’s chest rose erratically still, breaths sharp and gasping in the otherwise quiet room.
Gently, Dolores took one of Isabela’s shaking hands and laid it on her own chest.
“Feel my breath, prima.” She whispered, her chest rising and falling slowly beneath Isabela’s hand. “Feel the rhythm, and try to slow your breathing to mine. This will pass, prima. You just have to breathe.”
Isabela nodded in a stilted motion, taking a gasping breath and releasing it in a stutter.
In for three long seconds, out for another two.
In for three seconds, out for two.
In for three, out for two.
Again and again Dolores repeated this, Isabela's body gradually releasing its tension and her breathing evening out to match the steady rhythm.
Slowly, Isabela's eyes regained their clarity, flicking up to meet Dolores' and shakily reaching out a hand in a silent question.
Dolores immediately took Isabela's hand in her own, moving forward to sit next to her, pressing into her side.
They sat there hugged close to each other for a while, Isabela's breath shuddering every other breath.
"Thanks for that." Isabela finally whispered in a hoarse voice, sitting up.
"Anything for you, prima." Dolores said, lightly knocking her shoulder with her own.
"...But are you okay?"
"It was– it was just a stupid nightmare." Isabela murmured.
Dolores gave her a sad look.
"Don't look at me like that. It was nothing." Isabela tried to snap, but she found she simply didn't have the energy for her usual bite.
"Isa, I don't mean it like that, I'm just worried about you. I mean, that wasn't nothing. I heard you screaming in your sleep, Casita even woke me up."
"Like I said, it was a nightmare."
"Please don't shut me out, Isa. You shouldn't bottle this kind of stuff up."
"Especially after what happened." Went unsaid.
"Fine. It was about Mirabel, okay?"
Isabela didn't give Dolores the time to respond before she was speaking again, "It was about how it's my fault that she's gone! Because I was awful to her every chance I got because of my own stupid, stupid issues that don't even matter anymore. But now Mirabel is dead and it's because I drove her away, all because I was tired of being perfect all the time and I don't even want to marry stupid Mariano!"
Isabela was breathing heavily by the end of her tirade, seething.
"Isa…"
"And don't say that it wasn't my fault, because it was. Mirabel must have felt that her only option was to run away and that was because I made her life in the Encanto a living hell."
Dolores sighed, pursing her lips.
"I won't lie to you, Isa. Mirabel left because of the way we treated her, but that's on all of us, you can't just blame yourself. But ultimately, Mirabel is the one that chose to leave. And we can't turn back time. What happened-” Dolores swallowed harshly, “happened. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much we blame ourselves, nothing we do will change that. We have to live with what we did."
"And maybe, the only way for us to really… make it up to Mirabel in a way is by being better to each other. I feel like we only ever started having these talks with each other is after…" she died.
"Be… better." Isabela repeated softly.
"I don't know if I know how to be better. I've been pretending to be this… this stranger for so long, and I don't know if I can get myself back. I don't know if on top of everything else, I can figure out who I am."
Dolores held one of Isabela's hands in her own, looking into her eyes with complete sincerity.
"I know you can, Isa. The pretending, all of the lies and constantly trying not to disappoint Abuela is why our family is so broken, I see that now. I'm guilty of it, I think all of us are. And I know it's easy to tell you to just stop caring, but it's really not that simple, is it? But I think, for the sake of our family, we have to try."
"But… how do I do that? I snapped at Abuela last week, but nothing's changed. She just– she just acts like nothing happened! And everyone still thinks me and Mariano are going to marry, that I just need more time."
Isabela glared at nothing in particular, eyes shining with frustration.
"I don't need more time. I will never love Mariano, and I will never want to marry him."
"...Can I admit something to you, Isa?" Dolores whispered nervously.
“After the night I’ve had, sure.” Isabela huffed, drained.
"I like Mariano. I mean I really, really like Mariano." She squeaked, hiding her face behind her hands.
Isabela’s head whipped to the side to face Dolores, eyes wide in shock. "Wait, really? Why didn't you say anything?"
"I had a crush on him for a really long time, but then Abuela setting you two up just happened so fast! I just wasn't expecting for Abuela to basically arrange a marriage, especially not between you and Mariano, I mean what were the chances? And by that point it was too late and I was too embarrassed to say anything to my Mamí and Papí, let alone Abuela." Dolores ranted nervously.
"...Are you mad?" Dolores whispered.
"Mad, no! Why would I be mad? I never even wanted to get married in the first place! I know Mariano is supposed to be the perfect, fairytale husband but I just don't… feel that way about him."
Isabela continued with a mischievous smile, "But now that you say it, I can totally see it."
"What? What do you mean?"
"You're both total saps! I mean he literally writes poetry for God's sake, and you're always reading those trashy romance novels that Tía loves."
"Hey, they aren't trashy, and Mariano's poetry is inspired!" Dolores rushed to her and Mariano's defense.
"Oh, so you've listened to his poetry then?" Isabela smiled deviously.
"Ugh! Isa!" Dolores groaned, flushing dark red.
"Yeah, alright, just because I'm not a hopeless romantic." Isabela said with a laugh.
Dolores laughed back, before the mood became somber again.
"...I need to tell him, don't I?" Isabela whispered, eyes down.
"If you want things to be different, then yes. I think you owe it to both yourself and Mariano." Dolores said quietly, "And please don't think that I'm just saying that because I like Mariano. I would never do that to you, prima."
“I know, prima.”
---
"I need to call off the wedding."
"...What?"
Isabela shuffled uncomfortably, her throat tight as she couldn't even bring herself to meet Mariano's eyes. When he reached over to lift her chin to get her to look up, she pulled away from his touch, arms folded across her chest.
"I'm sorry–" Her voice broke, and she took a stuttering breath before continuing, "I just– I just can't. Not with everything that happened. I'm sorry, but I just can't." A sob creeped into her words, tightening her grip around herself.
Mariano looked like he so badly wanted to reach out to her again, but he let his hand fall limply to his side, giving her a shaky but genuine smile instead.
"Oh, mi amor it's okay. You don't have to apologize, you never have to apologize for something like this. You don't have to say anymore." Mariano said in a low, soft voice.
Isabela finally looked up to see that his own expression was wavering, his eyes glossy.
"Don't worry about me, Isa, I'll be okay. Even if it means that we don't get married for another year, or five, or ten. Even if we never get married. I love you, amor. But I understand you need time."
Isabela let out a slow, shuddering breath that rattled in her chest.
Mariano was– he was perfect. Even though she wasn't in love with him, and that she didn't think she ever would be, she found herself beginning to see just how good he was. How selfless, how caring.
"Mariano. I have to be honest with you, I owe you that."
"What do you mean?"
"I… I don't want to get married. And I don't mean that I just need more time, I never did want to get married, even before… everything happened."
"What are you saying? You don't… you never loved me?"
"I'm so, so sorry, Mariano. I never meant for this to happen, I just felt pressured. Like it was my duty to the Encanto, to my family, to Abuela to go through with the marriage. And I never meant for you to get hurt, I never hated you or blamed you. But I see now that by being dishonest to myself, I did hurt you, and that isn't fair to you. You deserve a happy, loving wife that loves your poetry and loves you."
"Isabela, I…"
"Isabela, I won't lie. I'm… devastated. And I'm angry. I mean, we dated for a year and you said nothing. But I can see how the pressure made you feel like you didn't have a choice, that your life wasn't your own to live. And I'm sorry that as your fiancé I never saw how unhappy you were. But I'm glad you were able to tell me the truth in the end. I've only ever wanted the best for you, and I'll let my Abuela know that the wedding is off, if that's okay."
Isabela took a hesitant step forward at first, and another and another until she had closed the gap to hug him.
Mariano was surprised at first, she never took initiative for physical affection like this, but then he slowly lowered his arms to hold her in a comforting grip, tucking her head underneath his chin.
"I'm so sorry, Isabela." He whispered in a thick voice, tears falling.
"So am I."
---
We went the two of us into
The woods behind the little school.
Two went in and one came home.
We didn't go in there alone.
Your eyes were lovely, dark and dancing.
They followed us into the trees.
To skin and bones and brains and blood.
The nights are lovely, dark and deep.
But I'll appear when you're asleep.
You'll wake up with a sudden hurt.
With mouth and lungs all full of dirt.
We went the two of us into
The woods behind the little school.
Yet I'm still buried in the mud.