Requisitions

I'm Hurt (On the Inside) PART 2

CONTINUATION OF CHAPTER 4 - ON THE INSIDE (I'M HURT)

The whole family was gathered around the large kitchen island, their focus entirely centered around Mirabel. She'd been sitting despondent for hours now, shoulders hunched with the blanket Camilo had originally fetched pulled tightly around her shoulders. Julieta's arms were wrapped around Mirabel protectively, her cheek pressed against the side of her daughter's head as she held her. One hand was on her cheek, and she stroked her thumb back and forth in a comforting and motherly gesture.

It was silent as they waited for someone else to be the first to speak, to share the unkindness that had been directed towards their Mirabel. Dolores's nose was twitching, and she was scowling, even as Mariano was gently squeezing her arms, rubbing them in a reassuring manner ever since she finally got back from dealing with the teenagers and their parents. Right now unfiltered anger was surging from her, rolling off in waves. Anger at those kids, anger at the town, but mostly anger at herself. She felt stupid to not realize, to not have heard it before. She hated to admit it, but those kids were smart to wait for her to be distracted to go after someone, anyone, especially her little prima.

Abuela sighed, tired of waiting. "Dolores?" she spoke up, asking multiple questions just by saying her name. What happened? Is this the first time? Has this happened before? Why didn't you hear it? Weren't you listening? All of these and more were understood in her voice.

"It's not her fault." Mirabel finally mumbled, "They made sure she was listening to something else, distracted enough to not hear." She told them what she knew was true, even though at the time of each one she had wondered what was so important that Dolores never heard and came for her. She had wondered, but she knew deep down that her prima hadn't intentionally left her at their mercy for so long. Dolores was beating herself up about it now, and she hated that fact and she knew nothing she could say would change what Dolores was thinking. After all, it was her job to listen to the whole family as well as the whole of Encanto. She felt reckless, careless that she had allowed herself to be distracted. "It's mine." Mirabel declared only to be met with immediate backlash and uproar from her family.

"No!" seemed to be the collective word of choice.

"Mirabel, you did nothing wrong." Her mother's voice was a low, comforting sound in her ear. "You should have told us, should have told me." there was an insistent edge to her voice, but not a single sound indicated a negative judgment. "You should have told me." it was repeated in a mournful murmur.

It was almost as though a fight broke out. Each Madrigal hissing at the others that they were the one to blame for this, that they were the one to blame for children being cruel to Mirabel, that they were the one to blame for not being known for so long. They all blamed themselves but were adamant that they were the only one at fault. Dolores the most out of all of them seemed to be certain this was all her doing.

"How long?" Alma finally silenced them with a hand in the air followed by a two-word question.

"I-I dunno." she mumbled the answer to her Abuela. "Forever I guess." she gave a half-hearted shrug.

There was a moment of hesitation before she asked her next question. "Why?" There were multiple ways this could be interpreted. Why were they doing this? Why didn't you say anything? Why did you keep it a secret for so long? She heard them all, and they echoed in her brain.

"I dunno." she shrugged again. "I guess they weren't always happy with us and I was the easy target since I'm the non-gifted Madrigal, ya know?" Mirabel didn't notice the looks shared between the others, looks of upset that she seemed to agree with the words she was saying. "Sometimes they were mad about the weather. Sometimes they were mad that something was broken when Luisa moved it. Sometimes they were mad they didn't get the type of food they wanted. Sometimes they were mad at how Camilo interpreted them. Sometimes they were mad that Dolores couldn't just turn her ears off." She wrung her hands, eyes welling up. "And I just-" she cuts herself off, trying to find the right words. "If they weren't going after me, then they'd be going after you all and I always figured it was better me than you." she admitted, and a tear managed to escape and slide down her cheek. "I didn't want to bother any of you with it because then they'd go after you more than they already were, and I'd have just made it worse for everyone."

It was like a dam had broken and every frustration, every pain, every word of hurt, every bruise on her body, every scar left on her soul she'd experienced because of these kids tumbled out of her mouth. "When we were little, they used to be really rough, you know? Kids being a little rough when they play is normal. Bruises and cuts and broken bones are normal when you're a kid." her mother held her tighter at the memory of how often she'd had to heal Mirabel growing up, far more often than her sisters, and her stomach was in a knot. If only she'd have recognized it for the sign, it had been. "Then when we got a little older, they couldn't hide that behind kids just roughhousing so they stuck to words instead and I thought it'd be better cause I didn't have to be healed every time I left Casita anymore." her bottom lip wobbled, "But it was almost worse that way."

She couldn't hold back the tears anymore, the sobs that had been threatening to tumble out for the last few minutes. Her body shook as she let it out, sobbing in Julieta's arms. Sharing the physical violence was one thing, but the emotional and verbal abuse she'd suffered for years? That was another thing entirely. Mirabel had spent years of her life being tormented by those kids and had listened to the hate they spewed. After so long she'd finally just believed their lies that she was worthless, dispensable, mediocre. Her bruises and cuts had been healed long ago by her mother, but their words left deep rooted emotional damage and lasting scars on the image she held of herself. She hated herself. She hated herself and that fact was blatantly on display for the whole family to see.

Her mother's arms got impossibly tighter and were followed by her fathers and her sisters. If there had been any more room left, the remaining members of the family would have slid their way into the dogpile of a family hug.

"None of the things they say are true." Camilo chokes out the words. "Not a single thing." he hiccups amidst his own crying. He was with Mirabel growing up, always. They were the same age, they were in the same class at the school, they were practically joined at the hip before his gift had become a useful commodity and his time monopolized. He felt like he of all people should have seen the way Mirabel's fun and mischievous demeanor had wilted and changed over the years.

Amongst them all Tio Bruno and Antonio were silent. Both were naturally quiet, but this was almost an eerie silence amongst all the noise. His eyes were green, and the little boy was watching him intently, waiting for him to speak. A small smirk formed on his lips, and he met Dolores's eyes, when she looked to him questioningly, hearing the sifting sand in the miniature hourglass he carried in his pockets. "They're going to get quite the talking to by their parents." he announced, "They'll be in more trouble than they've ever been. Those four will be in charge of a litany of chores until it has been determined that they've learned their lesson."

"Why didn't you need to go to your summoning circle, Tio?" Mirabel cocked her head as she asked in a tiny, still tearful voice.

"The big summoning circle helps keep the visions balanced as they manifest to be seen in the air. I don't always need it, but I find when showing people, the future that works best. When looking and not showing, I can see it in my brain just fine." he tells her with a tentative, lopsided smile. He hummed before tapping his knuckles on the wood of the door frame he was near before he met her eyes again. "It will get better. I promise. Their words won't define you forever." he gestures to look at the family surrounding her with love and concern. "And you have all of us on your team to tell you every day just how much we love and care about you." he tsks and rolls his shoulders in a nervous tic. "Someday you'll hear all the good things we think about you instead of all the bad things they wanted you to believe."

Each member of the Madrigal family looked her in the eye with a look of serious agreement. "Let us hold you up when you can't do it yourself." Isabela squeezed her hand. "Yeah, let us do the heavy lifting for you until you can do it on your own." Luisa agreed.

"We love you Mirabel." a tiny voice spoke for the first time since the family meeting started. Weaseling his way through the tangled mess of adults and teenagers, he put himself right in front of the fifteen-year-old and looked up at her with the big, sincere eyes of a child and with that look, Mirabel knew they'd all be okay eventually, even her.