The Heaven Inside the Hell

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The air around you was still hot, but the smoke that engulfed you was cold, almost like water droplets. They engulf you, and you take a deep breath in.

Some mistakes get made..

The smoke in your lungs chokes you, a feeling of water filling your lungs, until you can't get any air down there. You double over, hacking, but nothing comes out. You stumble through, unable to see more than a foot, unable to tell which way you're going.

You exhale, feeling as if icy water is spewing from your nose.

An electric shock runs through you.

10 years ago..

"Papa, can I please light the candles? I'm old enough, I promise not to get burned." Little you begs, despite burning yourself earlier that day.

"You can light it, but you can't place them. It's too high up for you. Deal?" Papa explains, handing you the lighter.

The candle you made was supposed to look like baby Jesus and the Virgin Mary next to him. However it ended up looking like two aliens with smushed grumpy cat faces. Papa didn't seem to care, so neither did you.

(A. Your whole family is Roman Catholic, and Christmas is one of the most important holidays. (This is actually the most common religion in Colombia.)

(B. Your family belongs to another religion/non religious, but you enjoy celebrating with the town in the time of peace and love.

"Your candle is the most beautiful." You sigh, looking wistfully at Papas candle, wishing you hand his talent and precision.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Papa whispers, his voice low.

"Sure, Papa!" You smile, happy to know something nobody else does.

"Your candle is my favorite. It's got the most thought into it." Papa places your candle on the windowsill.

"But it's ugly."

"Yes, it is. But you see the detail? How you added two places to burn the wicks? How Mary's dress has little stars on them? Or how sweet baby Jesus has a tear rolling down his face, even though his eyes are closed from sleep. That, my dear, is magical."

"But it's ugly!" You insist, looking sadly at your burning candle.

"It doesn't have to be beautiful to be worth something special. Nothing does, and neither does anybody."

Papa swiftly scoops you up, and carry's you to the couch. You never, ever, sleep in your bed on Christmas. You light being too warm under the blanket, looking at the fireplace burn, stockings with the family's powers embroidered on them.

You were so excited for Camilo's birthday. It was soon, and you were going to receive your gift. Next year your stocking will have something on it. You hoped to read minds.

The fire flickered, so many colors, and you feel heat, growing warmer and warmer and warmer..

Present Day..

"Hey, you okay?" Camilo rushes over to you, as you escape the veil. "Woah."

"What's wrong?!" You feel yourself, but nothing seems different.

"Your eyes.. purple."

You take a minute to look at Camilo. His eyes had turned a stunning shade of green and white, his skin glowed. You look down, realizing he's in nothing but a loincloth.

"Holy sh—! What happened to your clothes?!" You exclaim, checking yourself too. You had been reduced to a cloth wrapped around your chest and under your armpits, but had been granted a little better of a loincloth than Camilo.

"Burned off, I guess." Camilo shrugs.

You take a look around, your eyes burning from the sight.

Towers, skyscrapers, roads of paved magma, red and orange watercolor skies. Rivers of molten lava, shining a gorgeous purple. A castle in the middle of the Encanto, made of hardened black magma, white stripes where heat still flows lining the outside walls. A fire sits in the middle, rainbow colors flickering in and out of a silver flame.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Renata squeals, giddy from excitement. "Every time I make the transformation, it still shocks me. And I was born here!" She laughs.

"Renata! You've returned!" A woman cries out, and the two embrace each other.

"Oh dearest yes, I have returned, with my sons. Thank Eternal Fire for our safe travels." Renata prays towards the sky, blowing a kiss to the flame.

"Tell me, do you have her?" The woman asks, a slight edge of hope and frenzy in each word.

Renata just smiles, and turns the woman around.

"Oh my, sweetheart!" She runs over to you, hugging your so tightly your cores seem to combine.

"The prophecy was true."

And then it clicks.

Mama.

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