fail by design

Introspection

After Camilo had shut his door, sobbing remained in the halls. Tía Julieta and Pápa had to drag Máma back to their room; Abuela, pale and shaking, was assisted to her room by Isabella and Dolores. Mirabel had whirled on Tío Bruno, question after question fading as they hurried away, leaving Antonio and Luisa to stand, teary-eyed, with each other in the hall. And when Luisa finally left, Antonio was alone.

He was only five years old. As the youngest of his family, he was used to the bustling household, his brother wreaking havoc and laughter amongst the town, and Dolores' quiet, yet confident support, with the weather constantly changing to compliment his mother's mood. Then there was Mirabel, the cousin that practically raised him, Luisa who always was willing to lend a helping hand, Isabella's graceful nature, and Tía Julieta's soft, comforting words.

Antonio didn't really know how to interact with the kids in the village. They were loud and outgoing, in direct opposition to his quiet and shy nature. While Mirabel had assured him that he was perfect the way he was, Antonio held back his frustration at not being able to fit in, both with his family and the community in general. The Madrigals were known for being a helping hand within their community, while Antonio was forced to stay back in the nursery, waiting for the day his gift would be of use.

Most of that changed after the fall.

Mirabel was a force to be reckoned with.

Dolores had become more outspoken.

Luisa finally had a chance to relax.

Isabella began to embrace her newfound freedom, letting her true colours show..

For Antonio, this was a change. The atmosphere still grew tense, but his whole family became more relaxed when the encanto resurged. It had seemed that they were stronger together, more playful and easy-going.

With the exception of one person.

Camilo.

Antonio was young, but he knew something about his brother was different. The longing glances to a boarded up room, the fiddling of the gold cloth. Camilo never failed to protect Antonio, whether it be from the odd teasing, sneaking food to him in the middle of the night, or performing small plays specifically made to cheer him up. But Antonio knew the glances and touches held something unidentifiable.

And at the time, there wasn't much thought given to his brother's weirdness, and due to his upcoming fifth birthday, the stakes had risen. He hadn't quite been sure as to why Mirabel had stayed in the nursery with him (not until he heard the other children talking about her), but she became his closest confidant. She reassured him that everything was going to be fine, she took care of him when he was sick, or sad; cheering him up in the way only she could. Ever-so positive, ever-so loving.

Then came his birthday, and Antonio was terrified. Pressure rose, what if he didn't get a gift? What if his gift wasn't useful? What if? What if? WHAT IF?

But then the door lit up, a brilliant gold filling the room as the community and his family's faces filled with awe. Silence. Then the roaring of voices filled his ears, followed by the sound of all types of animals filling the home and his room was everything Antonio could ever dream of.

Then came Mirabel, talking about how the magic was dying, and from that day onward came Luisa's power failing, the engagement party, the Casita falling and then Tío Bruno's return.

He didn't miss the shock on Camilo's face.

And he would never forget the anger that ultimately came months later.

Maybe Camilo wasn't really his sibling, but Antonio was going to make sure that his brother never forgot how much he loved him.

Through lidded, blurry eyes, Luisa made her way to the stream, unknowingly like her cousin did all those months ago. Finally collapsing on the bank-side, she couldn't help but wonder if this was her fault. As the strongest, her duties required her to handle every burden that her family or the community held. The expectations weighed down on her every single day, leaving her with little room to truly sit down and ruminate over what the family was really dealing with.

And this was a big situation to deal with.

While her older sister and Dolores would have more memories to remember Bruno by, Luisa had less. She remembered her baby cousin's and little sister's births with ease, remembered their toddler phases with fondness, but her memory wouldn't, or couldn't, conjure Camilo's tiny frame swaddled in cloth being held by her uncle, rather than her aunt.

Her family meant the world to her.

Something about Camilo and Mirabel always stood out to her though. The way they were glued to the hip, chattering a mile a minute over how cool she was, how they wanted to be like her rather than "stuck up Isabella" or the mysterious super-hearing Dolores. The two made her feel special, like she was their entire world. And she recalls, vaguely, how much Camilo truly had changed.

Prior to his ceremony, Camilo tended to be more reserved, much like his apparent father. When he wasn't being dragged around by Mirabel's energetic mood, he was always a step behind Bruno, much like a shadow. Almost always covered in sand, Luisa recalls her mother's affectionate eye roll before she would kneel down and ruffle a gentle hand through dark curls, sand falling as if from an hourglass.

And just like falling sand, the man disappeared, followed by the rising tensions that stifled the household's residents. The thought evoked a hazy memory: adults talking in hushed voices, stolen glances at a seemingly oblivious Camilo.

It was evident that something had changed. Her cousin became incredibly outgoing, switching personality and shape at the snap of his fingers. Talking loudly in other forms that weren't his own, to the point where it was rare to see his true face, and as the years went by, Luisa began to realise how little she knew of her cousin.

Where there was once a skittish child, who hid behind books and soft laughter, emerged a teenager who clothed himself in a cloak of mischief, a stranger in his own skin.

Even within the last few days, something prominent stood out to the family.

When looking at Camilo, twirling in a cloud masked by his gift, they didn't know who they were truly looking at.

It most definitely wasn't the Camilo they were used to. No, this one was full of stark betrayal, only somewhat levelled by the ever present confusion and loneliness. Then the tears shed, and from there, the sounds of screaming and accusations thrown reverberated in her head. "Oh, you really thought I would forget my own father?" One thing was true above all else: the Madrigals failed Camilo in the biggest way possible. Luisa was terrified of the repercussions of the argument; would the tension rise among them once again, or would everything turn out alright?

While Luisa certainly couldn't control the past, nor the rest of her family's reactions, she would be damned if she didn't do something now.