It'd been a week since Camilo left his room, and a constant cloud blanketed the entire Encanto. Rain, tornadoes, and thunderstorms quickly made themselves known to the unlucky residents who now rarely left their homes in fear of the horrifying weather.
"Why won't he come out!" Pepa cries, worried about her son's well-being. Felix, her husband, was doing his best, but every 5 or so seconds he found himself 1) electrocuted 2) flying due to a tornado, 3)knocked out from some hail, or 4) a very odd mix of all three. Yes, the Madrigals had delved into absolute chaos, and if it didn't bother Dolores before, it did now.
Pepa had asked her first, and to her relief he was alive. She left out the part where he hasn't taken care of himself in about a week. Whenever Dolores focused, she could hear him whispering a certain phrase, like he was trying to convince himself of something...
"Carlos isn't real. You're Camilo Carlos isn't real he isn't real he isn't real you are Car- Camilo you are Camilo you are... you are Camilo-"
Carlos?
Dolores shudders as she remembers something from about 10 years ago.
A week after so and so's Ceremony, Camilo had been seemingly throwing unpredictable tantrums after a huge fit of crying and nausea. It was like he became a completely different person whenever it happened.
Of course, Pepa blamed her niece (Mirabel) for this, and it got worse from there.
Dolores didn't think this to be true, but she never said anything.
What could she possibly say, anyways?
So, she stayed a bystander just as she always did. Quietly watching as she took the blame.
Tears fell like waterfalls in Mirabel's eyes yet Dolores just watched, hearing her mourning day and night.
The speed everyone had when it came to shutting Mirabel up was unparalleled, she knew that. But of course, all she did was put a finger over her mouth.
The children Mirabel's age laughed at her and yet Delores didn't intervene.
No matter what, she was quiet.
All these things happened and Delores was quiet. The least she could do is do the same thing she did for Camilo as she did all those years ago.
Right?
Right?
— f a l s e —
"You... You are 15... no...wait..." Camilo falters. "Right, you are 15... yes 15... and you have... red- no... blue? They were brown, right?" He was so busy saying the same thing yet he didn't even listen to himself, and now he was so lost.
"You have black... hair..." he mutters, staring into the mirror. Eye bags rested under his red eyes yet he lacked the energy to hide them. His hair no longer bounced with life, and its shine was long gone, a side effect of doing nothing for a week. His throat was raspy and painful, crying out for even a drop of water (it didn't stop him though.)
He wasn't wearing his Ruana but rather clad in his pj's that were also red, but had more black and white around it.
"You... you are..." silence. He had so many pieces, made so many combinations, yet none sat right with him.
One was Delores, though her eyes were the wrong shade.
One was his Mami, but her hair was brown rather than orange.
One was Antonio, yet he was too tall.
All of these people he knew yet they were nobody at all.
But at least he could put a name on them, because whatever his name was, it'd completely escaped him. He had an idea, an outline, but nothing made sense when he tried.
He would cry about it, but not a single tear came from his eyes.
"You are..." he comes to a drawer, though not in reality.
"You are..." he was in his head, looking through his list.
"You... you are..." A name at the bottom of the list catches his eye.
"You are... you are..." he accepts this name as his own, though whoever "he" was was no longer around.
"You are..." he pauses, a smile forming on his cracked lips.
"You are Carlos Madrigal. You are 15, you have Maroon eyes and black curly hair."
It made so much sense to him, but to the girl behind his door, all it was anything but.
With wide eyes, she straightened her posture and looked around, only one thought going through her head.
"That's not Camilo in there."
She whispers to herself.
"Not anymore."
YOU ARE READING
F a l s i f i e d
FanfictionIt's been forever since anyone last saw Camilo. He's stayed in his room as much as possible, staring blankly into one of the various mirrors in his room. If he left, it was brief and he did whatever he had to get back to his room as quickly as possi...
