Outside the Encanto

The Afterparty

10 years have passed.

At least, that's what it feels like. In truth it's only been a month and a half, but it feels longer. Too long. Your body certainly healed quicker than expected, although you're a little out of shape from the recovery process.

You're not dead, but you're not alive either. You eat, you drink, you sleep, but you don't laugh, you don't smile, not even for Camilo.

The Encanto is back to an united front, although it's mainly a broken one. People have been disappearing randomly. At least one a week you have a new bedside neighbor, only to never be heard from again.

You cry yourself to sleep every night, only to wake up screaming hours later from the nightmares. The rigid air freezes the tip of your nose, and you shiver underneath your sheets until sunrise.

Julieta believes you suffer from PTSD. You believe she's crazy.

Every day you do as expected, but only that. Antonio tried visiting you, but he's no longer allowed to. You wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't even look at him. You couldn't. He reminded you too much of Maria.

The whole Madrigal family is a mess. Pepas frantic about Dolores, not sure if she's alive or dead. Her body still hasn't been found. Felix is the same, along with Camilo.

Julieta and Augustine have been arguing nonstop. Its become a normal thing, and it's clear to see why. Julieta's been working 24/7 trying to save as many lives as possible, while also being the main caretaker for the family. Augustine is doing his best to help out, but he winds up needing to be taken care of more often than not. Neither of them are at fault, but you've walked in on Isabella and Mirabel covering each other's ears as their parents senselessly argue.

You're pretty sure Luisa never stops crying.

Your family isn't much better. Everyone is in chains, separate cells, much like the ones the Madrigals were forced into. Most of them have just been left to bleed to death, but you make sure they get food and water, just like you did the Madrigals.

....................................................................................

"Hey, Y/n. We brought you some empanadas." Mirabel says, Camilo following her. They each take a seat on opposite ends of your bed.

"Thanks." You reach for one and take a greedy bite.

"Man, life's been tough." Mirabel sighs. "Mama and Papa are fighting like crazy."

"Yeah, and we still haven't found Dolores. It's strange.. she wasn't sent out into battle. Someone must've found her and.." Camilo trails off, staring into space. He grabs an empanada and stuffs it into his mouth.

"You didn't see Dolores, did you Y/n?" Mirabel asks, speculating. Your heart rate doubled.

"Oh course she didn't see her, she was too busy getting to the Candle." Camilo snaps, shutting Mirabel down.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Y/n, you really saved us all." Mirabel grins, patting your knee.

Not all of us. You think.

"I couldn't have done it without you. Whatever that was.. you saved me, Mira. All of you did." You assure her, confused yourself on what she even did.

"I.. I figured it out. Why I didn't get a gift.. who I am. That night I lost control.. Something just came to me. Tio Bruno helped me realize that I wasn't ever going to truly be accepted as a Madrigal, because I kept trying to be. It was trying to prove myself that made me so unhappy, and I should express myself as Mirabel, not Mirabel Madrigal. I just felt a spark, and luckily it happened right in the nick of time." Mirabel laughs, grinning at herself in a mirror perched on the wall.

"That's great and all.. but that doesn't explain the charge." You say, digging for more information.

"I dont have a gift, because I hold the magic to give the gifts. Magic doesn't just die, so when the Miracle Candle was destroyed, it just transferred to me. All I had to do was activate it." Mirabel beams, proud that she finally unlocked her potential.

"That's great, Mira. I'm proud of you." You lightly punch her shoulder, forcing a half grin. You're especially thankful that the you "stealing" Mirabels gift theory is gone.

"Does that mean you can give gifts now?" Camilo gasps, hope filling his eyes.

"I.. I don't know. I'm sure I could if I really tried, but Abuela said she only officiated the ceremonies, that the magic itself did all the work." Mirabel sighs, pausing to take a drink of water. She looks around at the two of you, waiting for something else to be said.

"Oh hey, this was in your armor when the medics had to stitch you up. Mama asked me to give it to you, and not to read it." Camilo hands you the scroll Tia Sophia had given you, an eager look in his eyes.

"Thanks. I'll read it later." You sigh, hoping you'll never have to read it. You didn't even want to.

"Oh, alright." Camilo frowns, staring at the parchment. "Wow, it's late. I need to get back to Antonio."

Mirabel checks the time, the sighs. "Right on time for another parental scream session. I'd better go, stop it before it happens."

The two cousins take the now empty plate and exit.

....................................................................................

"9, and 10." You pant, finishing your tenth set of curls. You hate how much this tires you out, but also know that it has got to stop.

You realize the sun has gone down, and hold some flames in your fingers to see, although the room does not illuminate.

"Oh.. right." You look sadly at your hand, the feeling of fire still there despite the lack of flames. You rummage through some drawers and find a box of matches, although you hadn't used them in years.

With tears you light the match, letting it burn atop a candle wick. It doesn't help much, but at least now you can see.

You sit on your bed, bored and unwilling to sleep. Maybe some part of you just can't. Won't.

You look over at the scroll embedded in your sheets, bored enough to dare reading it. Something merely two hours ago you thought you'd never do.

You carefully take the scroll in your hands, holding it near the candle for light. You begin to unravel the spiral, before stopping.

Do I really want to do this?

The question east away at you as you stare at the white sheet, the tips of the words peaking through the shadows.

You tuck the paper back in, open a drawer, and carefully set it in there. You blow out the candle, and huddle up in your blanket.

"Good night." You whisper to yourself.