TW: Mild Descriptions of Panic Attacks
—
Alma Madrigal saw a handful of miracles, that was for sure.
The towering mountains of Encanto, the fertile soil for their crops, the streams that flowed with fresh water, the house that came to life for them to seek refuge—she was sure this paradise was born of great miracles. She was sure she had seen it all.
She was wrong.
On the second floor of the casita, three doors lit with swirling gold, the heat from the wood akin to the rays of the first light of dawn. Alma stood, candle in hand, as she stared. Was there more to the miracle than just a sentient house, towering mountain refuges, and fruitful harvest?
As if to answer her internal confusion, Casita nudged Alma's foot forward, swung the boards beneath the doors' frames, and shook the tiles in the mezzanine to create some sort of melodically pleasing tunes.
The town matriarch snapped out of her daze and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, "...what does this mean, casita? Whose doors are these?"
Casita excitedly opened a cabinet, signaling near the door—this one unlit—where her children still slept soundly.
"It's for my children?" Casita thumped some of the wooden stairs. That was a yes. "Why are the doors glowing?" A chorus of thumps and bangs were heard from everywhere. Alma didn't know what it meant.
"...okay, next question; should I open the doors just to check what's inside?" Casita shook one cabinet twice. That was a no.
"Alright, no opening of doors, got it," Alma released a sigh, her head spinning in confusion. A sentient house is dandy and all, but talking to the casita was some sort of charade that they had to play. "Now, um, should I wake the children up so they can open the doors?" Another shake of the cabinet. That was another no.
"If the doors are theirs, but they can't open it now, then when can they open it? And what is it for?" Alma internally groaned in frustration. There were so many things she wanted to ask in detail but having a mute, sentient house was not leaning in her favor.
Casita tries to explain as best as it could; banging of unlit doors, the rise and fall of furniture parts, clanging tiles, moving pots. Alma wanted desperately to throw her head back and groan deeply, but she had an image to uphold. It was a hard habit to break when she first started leading the village, but after almost five years of keeping up the uptight façade, the restraint made her more in control now; more poised than the rowdy village girl she once was.
She wished Pedro could see her now. She was a different woman.
As if having an idea, Casita waved Alma's attention to her own door, glowing the same light as the three doors that appeared. The only difference to hers and the triplets' doors was the lack of etchings depicting the resident inside. Casita then waved her attention over to the swirling gold of the other three doors and to the candle that she was holding.
As if enlightened, Alma stood baffled on the second floor, "Are you saying that my children will get their own miracles?" A thump from the stair resounded. That meant a yes. Casita then pointed some wooden furniture to the candle yet again, creating what Alma could only assume as sounds of joy.
"The candle? The candle will give them their own miracle?" A thump from the stairs; a yes.
"When?" A gesture towards the triplets' room made her raise a brow. Was there something she didn't understand? When was the question, so gesturing towards the children was—
YOU ARE READING
Love Me for Eternity || Bruno Madrigal
FanfictionAs the daughter of the town's watchman, you've always been fixated on the outside world. Bruno has supported you with this dream ever since you were five. However, your brash decisions might have caused your own downfall when you have come to hate t...
