Nightmares

Ch. 1

Wasn't just a bad dream?

With that, Mirabel hummed and pursed her lips as he mulled over his words. She looked down at him. "Now, what do you mean by that?"

Antonio didn't respond and instead turned his head away, trying to wriggle away from the inevitable conversation but Mirabel remained persistent.

"Antonio…" she murmured gently but sternly, mimicking that of her Abuela's demeanor.

A few seconds of silence greeted her before Antonio sighed in defeat and turned around, pressing his back against her. He stared down at his hands. "It's not that easy. I can't say it was just a bad dream cause… cause it might come true." Antonio whispered sharply.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mirabel saw her cousin picking at his fingernails, a bad habit she'd noticed in him occurred every now and then. During dinner the night before, after Abuela had addressed the family to express concern surrounding Antonio's upcoming gift ceremony and what to expect, Mirabel had noticed her young cousin picking at his nails from underneath the table. All eyes were on him and while there were collective agreements and warm words about what would typically transpire, she just knew that something else was up.

"Well…" she began softly, pulling his hands away and into her own. He turned back around towards her. "What do you mean by that?" She smirked playfully. "After all, nightmares are just big and mean old dreams," she said, playfully frowning and growling as she described them. Antonio giggled and Mirabel quickly tapped his nose. "They just want to trick you into thinking they're real."

Antonio nodded slowly, his head continuing to bob in sleepiness. Mirabel chuckled softly and was getting up to tuck him back into bed before he shot up again and shook his head, facing her with wide eyes.

"N-no, not… not this one," Antonio said reluctantly. "I-it was different." He curled into himself as his tiny frame began to shake once more. "I was all alone."

Mirabel shook her head and interlocked her fingers with Antonio's. "But you won't be alone. You have me and the rest of your familia with you."

"But that was the thing!" Antonio cried out, clutching Mirabel's hand. "Nobody was there!" He picked up the tiger-face pillow and held it close, tracing the button eyes (well, button eye) and soft thread whiskers.

He shrugged a bit. "I mean… yeah, you were there, b-but after I touched the door…"

He stopped, sniffling and shook once more.

Mirabel"s brows furrowed and she tilted her head to the side. "What do you-"

"It was horrible!" Antonio cried out as his arms wrapped around his small body in an attempted self-comforting hug. "Everyone was gone. Abuela, Mami, Papí, Milo, Lola-" he shook his head a few quick times as if to free himself from the remainder of the terrible dream.

He turned to Mirabel, eyes wet but wide with fear. "Even you weren't there!" he whispered sharply before burying himself into Mirabel's embrace. "I was all alone."

Mirabel felt the sting of an all-too familiar fear. Being one of the two Madrigal offspring without a gift unfortunately came with their own set of shared concerns. Little Antonio was just four going on five in a couple of months, where he would hopefully receive a gift of his own and serve his community for years to come.

By contrast, Mirabel was fifteen but without a gift of her own. Despite the lack of a clear answer as to why this was, it wasn't easy to forget the lack of importance she was deemed to have as a result by her Abuela and community.

But... what could she say? Was there even something she could say to assuage her primito's fears? Surely her family wouldn't truly leave little Antonio by himself… but what would happen if history were doomed to repeat itself, and Antonio were to have his door fade away too?