Chapter Text
Antonio’s gift was fitting. Mirabel was amazed no one had guessed it, but nonetheless it made sense. Her primo had always had a soft spot for all critters he came across, and then him. It’s why she made him that stuffed animal in the first place! And she was happy for him, truly. She was happy, right? Well, she tried to be. Even as she watched the little boy she’d shared a room with his entire life forget her, snuggled in the arms of the gifted Madrigals, all smiling for a family photo she wasn’t welcome to join. It was fine. She was happy for him. She wasn’t happy, no, but she was happy for Antonio. It was fine. She was fine. Right?
Mirabel left Antonio’s room, lost in thought, lost in the overwhelming emotions all clashing trying to gain control. She was happy but she was sad. She was jealous but she felt guilt because of it. She was fine but… she wasn’t fine. Her familia would never see that, she realized now. Even if by some stroke of chance they realized the turmoil that was building in Mirabel’s heart and mind, they wouldn’t change. None of them would.
A crash. Mirabel let out a gasp as she jumped out of the way of a roof shingle, suddenly very aware of where she was. When had she walked down the stairs? Mirabel was also startled to feel wetness along her cheeks, no doubt tears she hadn’t even realized we’re streaming. She stared at the shingle, glancing up at where it had come from.
“What are you trying to tell me, Casita?” She whispered hoarsely. The shingles shuttered, but no more fell. Mirabel didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she understood the general message. Casita was upset.
The next few minutes passed in a blur for the young girl, she made quick work of the shattered shingle, earning herself a few cuts in her hands of varying depth. She probably should sneak one of her Mami’s empanadas, but she couldn’t. She didn’t remember climbing the stairs and walking past the party, but she did remember pausing in the entryway of another staircase.
Mirabel’s eyes traveled up the stairs, seeing the carved designs that adorned her entire family’s doors, but this one lacked its glow. The man depicted looked almost… sad. Mirabel could relate. She could barely remember her Tio Bruno, but what memories she did have were good. He was kind, gentle. The harsh words from the townspeople he had grown accustomed to had worn him down severely, but Mirabel remembered warmth from the mans embrace. No matter how much her primo Camilo scared the kids in town with his stories of their Tio, she knew he remembered too. And perhaps her sisters and the rest of her cousins did too, but she had never seen a hint of it. No one talked about Tio Bruno, and most of the family seemed to hold a grudge against him.
Mirabel didn’t think it was very fair, after all she could see why he would want to leave. He felt like an outcast, constantly reminded of his faults, his own family doing nothing to fix things. Mirabel knew because it was how she felt, and wasn’t that a realization.
She sighed, eyes taking over the planks of wood that had kept Bruno’s room shut from prying eyes all these years. Mirabel had never been in her Tio’s room, and now her curiosity burned. She threw a glance over her shoulder in trepidation, but it was moot. The party was still in full swing, her familia would be occupied for at least another hour, maybe two. Mirabel’s eyes fell back on the door. Well… it wouldn’t hurt anyone, so why not?
She’d come to regret that decision. In one universe, this night had gone a little differently. You know that story. In this one, Mirabel saw her Tio’s vision, her in front of her home, cracks spreading like a disease, ones that she hadn’t seen before. Cracks that she wasn’t aware were possible, having not seen them before. And in that moment, looking down at the pieces together shards of glass that made her eyes burn the longer she stared at them, Mirabel understood even more.
This had been the catalyst. This had been the straw that broke the camels back, her back. The worst vision her Tio had probably had, depicting her. Mirabel. Mirabel, the cause of Casitas destruction. This feeling? It’s important. Because this feeling of pure fear and desperation had been the cause of one Madrigal’s disappearance, and it was now going to cause another’s. Though Mirabel wasn’t going to end up as close by as Bruno, admittedly. Nowhere close, actually.
Mirabel wasn’t crying. She felt like she should be crying but she wasn’t. She didn’t cry as she flew down the steps of Bruno’s tower, all the way out the door, leaving behind the vision she had seen. She didn’t bother to shut the bedroom door behind her, sprinting out of the sandy room all the way to the nursery.
This franticness didn’t disappear once she stopped running, now going towards her effort to pack quickly. As stated before, Mirabel could relate to her uncle and his feelings that most likely led to his disappearance. And now she was leaving too. She grabbed any small scraps of fabric and thread she could find, as well as any spare change she had hidden. She ran again. This time not stopping even as she crossed Casitas threshold, running and running as far as she could. She knew she couldn’t scale the mountain, but being as far away from her family as she could would be best.
Casita was upset, but understood. Casita’s magic spread further than the Madrigal family knew, and Casita would use this to its advantage. Casita felt Mirabel’s feet pounding on the dirt and grass, slowing in exhaustion but not stopping until reaching the base of the farthest mountain from Casita. Casita decided to help the girl, as saddened as it was to do so. Casita felt Mirabel lean against a tree, the girl shaking as the adrenaline wore off and heaving as her lungs desperately searched for air.
Casita had control over the entire town, reaching all the way to the town that lay just past the boundary of mountains. This neighboring town, Casita had no actual control over, but could sense all that it held, all the people. It would be a good home for Maribel until she was ready. And while she healed, and this new home taught the teenager how special she truly is, Casita needed to deal with the Madrigal’s. And Casita was angry.