Chapter Text
Mirabel made her way home to Castia to join her family in their nightly dinner meal. The clear skies and windy breeze signaled that she was running on time, but she knew the longer she took, the worse the weather would get. Mirabel walked briskly, very hungry and excited to share her day. She finally felt like she was helping the family instead of being a burden. She helped babysit the youngest Alvarez children, repaired a torn blanket ripped by Luisa’s uncontrollable strength, and she even-
Her thoughts were swiftly cut off as she felt a blunt object contact her head, the impact knocking her green glasses to the floor. Likewise, she came crashing down, slightly unaware of her surroundings or what was going on?
Mirabel had her fair share of bullies and tormenters over her giftless years. Everyone thought the Madrigals had to serve and please, and Mirabel wasn’t good enough to do those things, so they put her down. Broken bones, suicidal thoughts, and broken lenses were only some of the outcomes after encounters with her haters. They were always taller, older, more muscular, no matter how much she grew. They just kept on multiplying. Until she saved the miracle, most saw her worth in her family. While it did depress her that she wasn’t good enough on her own, Mirabel is glad that almost everyone is off her back.
Keywords: most, almost.
Not everyone loved her, and they made it evident.
Well, not really. They did send threatening glares and went out of their way to hit her while walking. However, when they did ever try to approach Mirabel, someone by her side (usually Isabella or Luisa) would stop them before they got too close.
Tonight though, Mirabel insisted that she was an independent woman. She could walk home by herself after she finished her duties. She would be back on time, no struggle. Luisa (she was helping put Jorge to bed at the time) told her to be careful and left to help prepare dinner. Not a second thought crossed her mind, and Mirabel was glad.
Not right now.
Mirabel struggled to comprehend the situation before she was knocked down again, now with a more brutal blow to her legs to stop mobility. Mirabel could not move, fight back, or even think properly. A man shoved a black cloth in front of her nose; the pungent scent filled her mind as she slowly fell into a deep sleep. She struggles to keep her eyes open, resisting her sense’s urge to give in. Her will is firm until the pitch black that encompasses her vision throws her off completely, causing her to close her eyes and fall submissive to her kidnapper’s plans.
The man looks at the bagged Madrigal, who stopped struggling as soon as he placed the bag over her giftless head. A pedestrian passing by would of been easily freaked out by the scene, looking like a familiar plotline for NCIS, but no one was out at this brutal hour, as Pepa’s worry and anger swept everyone back into their homes. Very convenient for him, the stars were aligned. He pulled out a phone to contact his head, confirming that the mission was successful.
“I got her boss, time for phase two.”
----
Dolores sat tensely, a single tear streaming down her cheek, still trying to process what she just heard go on down the road. However, she was even
more
concerned that she recognized the voice taking her cousin away.