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Julieta was the caregiver of the family. From the minute she was born she always thought of others more than herself. Her mother praised her for it, Pepa relied on her for it, and Bruno appreciated her for it.
For many years she was the glue of the family, keeping people happy and healthy. Her gift to heal with her cooking made sure people were well and her patience made keeping a sense of contentment easily attainable.
She enjoyed her work, but sometimes it did become overwhelming.
Her mother would often vent to her about her brother. How his gift and exploits in town were affecting the family’s image and view of the magic. She would always say “I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about you, mija.” Julietta would just nod her head and accept the compliments graciously. A part of her though felt a sense of dread about being compared to her sibling. It was not Bruno’s fault for being able to read the future.
She would often visit him after a series of unfortunate events with their mother. She would ascend the many stairs to reach the giant circular door to his reading room, freshly baked-goods in a basket on her arm and love in her heart. She cared deeply for Bruno and just wanted him to be happy.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
Bruno turned from the green tile in front of him, sand dissipating from the swirling vortex and settling back to the floor. His long green cloak—almost ankle length, with pristine gold embroidery—bellowed around him from the dissipating winds as he got up to open the door. “Oh, Julie!” A splash of wind and sand smacked his sister in the face, causing Julietta to blink rapidly and shake out her hair in alarm. “Lo siento. I didn’t mean too…”
“Don’t worry about it.” She said while trying to remove as much sand from her person as possible. He frowned. She smiled at Bruno and presented him with the basket on her arm. “I thought you could use a pick-me-up.” He looked down at the basket, smiling softly.
“Thank you.” He said genuinely, accepting the basket. He looked inside to see his portion from dinner along with added desserts, courtesy of his sister. This was routine for them. Bruno would skip dinner, his absence noted by the whole family. Abuela would spout euphemisms and Julietta would silently bring Bruno his meal.
However, today would be a different day.
Bruno began to close the door, thinking their business had concluded, but Julietta aggressively put her arm on the door, holding it open. She gave her brother a stern look. Bruno met her gaze with his hesitant own.
“…You want to leave.”
.
.
.
“Yes.” He said simply.
“Why?” She pleaded.
Silence rang out in the corridor…then a shift. The ground shook. Rumbling was felt beneath Julietta’s feet. She braced herself suddenly as the room shook with a violent shuddering. The air suddenly felt thinner. The weight of her person felt heavier. She reached out to her brother and embraced him in a hug.
The room stopped shaking, but Julietta could have sworn she still felt a slight vibration under her feet. “Mother is hard on all of us, but I know she’s hardest on you.” He didn’t move from her embrace, but did not say anything either. She took this as her cue to continue. “But that doesn’t mean she hates you. I love you and want you to know, no matter what, I will be here for you if you need to talk.”
Bruno’s arms around her tightened and she heard him silently sob into the crook of her neck.
The vibrations stopped.
As she left, Julietta stood at the entrance of Bruno’s room, noting the height of the tower seemed higher than it was before.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the next several years, the cycle would continue. Julietta would ask her brother to talk and he would simply say she would not understand.
The stairs would grow more numerous, and Julietta’s trips would become farther and further in-between, but she still tried.
On her last attempt, she climbed the present-day tower. Fully exhausted, she knocked on the door.
And knocked again.
…and again.
...and again.
…and again with more urgency.
“Very funny, Bruno. Stop playing around, and open the door.”
But there was no answer.
.
.
.
He was gone.