The Dripping (Encanto Oneshot)

The Dripping

Drip. Drip.

Dolores is very, very thankful for her soundproof roof. Whenever the town became too excited, or the fireworks would carry on for a tad bit too long, she would tuck herself away into her room and cover her ears until the world finally, finally became silent. Took a lot of focus and time. Wishing that perhaps, one day, she would be allowed to finally hide her ears instead of being forced to keep her hair up. To display the thing people loved, sometimes more than herself.

Drip. Drip.

Abuela was the one who decided her ears needed to be shown. "It's your gift," She spoke tenderly so long ago, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Why hide it?"

Because, Dolores would answer within her own mind, it sucked. When she covered her ears things became muffled. Softer. She preferred it like that. That's why, when Abuela always would give a sad glance whenever Dolores would hide her ears, the girl decided to instead hide away in her room when she needed a break from being constantly overwhelmed.

When she left the room that day, the familiar sounds returned to smother her once more. Isabela creating several flowers for the flowerbeds in their front lawn. The soft mutters of someone within their walls.

And a soft...

Drip.

Something was dripping.

Liquid. Falling down. Dripping away. Something was leaking, it seemed. She couldn't figure out where, though.

Drip.

"Abuela," She had spoken up at dinner, "Someone has a leak. I think someone near our house. It sounds close.

"Thank you, Dolores, I'm sure the villagers will be thrilled to fix any leaks before they can cause damage," She said. Her smile was soft. Happy. The few times true happiness crossed her face was when their gifts were used. When the magic was prominent.

The dripping, that night, stopped. Not suddenly, no, but it slowly crept towards more gaps between each drip. And finally, that noise had stopped. Guess the leak wasn't a big one.

"Dolores?"

That night, on the cusp of sundown, Camilo peaked around a corner. Glancing at her.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Have you heard where Mirabel went? She left around lunchtime and none of us have seen her. She even missed dinner."

Right. Dolores first, as she always did, listened. She couldn't hear Mirabel grasping for air as she'd run about the village and entertain the children, nor did she hear the needle threading through the fabric for embroidering. Any sounds she could be making were not found.

She was likely sleeping, everyone had mused. Dolores wouldn't blame her. After bringing a lot of negative attention to herself the night before, it was to be expected she'd hide away for a bit. Poor Mirabel. She honestly didn't deserve the treatment given to her. She was so kind and bright, it was hard to watch. Even made the headband Dolores wore, having given it to her a few years ago for her birthday. She loved the handcrafted gifts her cousin would hand out.

A few days later came the rotting sound.

It was difficult to describe. A slow, methodical grind of gross. She hated that she could hear the sounds of rotting. Typically veggies or meats that the villagers left out. A few times it was wild animals that happened to die peaceful on the outskirts of town from the curse of age. How everyone went in this town.

"Mama," She had told Pepa, "I... what's wrong?"

"It's been a few days. Mirabel is still missing after the ceremony."