Fractured Wings - An Encanto Fan Story

fourteen

     "Yup, you are sick, corazón." Julieta took her hand off Giselle's burning forehead. "And, unfortunately, I can only heal wounds and not sicknesses." She added apologetically. 

     "Do not fret, madame Julieta, this was bound to happen." Giselle assured the kind woman. 

    Julieta hummed worriedly. "Well, you rest now until you get better, alright?" She gave Giselle one last nod and walked out, shutting the door behind her. 

     Giselle then begun to drift in and out of consciousness, possibly hallucinating things too. It felt as if Giselle was looking at her younger self from a distance. 

     Young Giselle—or I should say Ellie—was on her brother's shoulders, looking up at the setting sun as their parents—Gilbert and Anne—sat in bench nearby. 

     "We'll always come here until we're both gray and old, Ellie." Stéphane—Giselle's brother—told the little girl on his shoulders. "Promise?" 

     Ellie laughed and gave a tightly held her brother's head. "Promise!" 

     But, he was the one to break that promise first. Once their parents divorced, he was quick to follow after the woman who tore their family apart, while Ellie stayed back and took care of her father, despite being only twelve. However she looked too much like her mother for Gilbert to handle. He couldn't look his daughter in the eyes without being reminded of the woman he loved. 

     One evening, thirteen-year-old Giselle was returning from the firework-gathering the town was hosting, and was greeted with yet another tragedy. 

     "Père, I am back early from-" Ellie placed her backpack down in confusion. 

     But her father—Gilbert—was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious. "Father!" Ellie shouted and scrambled close to the man. Screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking him did nothing. Eventually the neighbors stepped in the apartment and called an ambulance. 

     The scenery changed and it now showed Ellie moving in her grandmother's house. She was hiding in her room as voices argued from below. 

     "How can you be so harsh on the girl?! She just witnessed her own father having a heart attack!" Angelíta was clearly angry. 

     "I cannot afford to take her in! And I have no reason to care about that sad old man, we have been divorced for some time!" Anne said defensively. 

     "Don't you dare insult them! She is your fille—your daughter!" Angelíta sounded shocked at her own daughter's words. "How can you keep Stéphane-"

     "Stéphane, is mon fils—my eldest son—and he can actually bring support to his family! That girl has brought us nothing but misfortune, maman!" Anne caught Angelíta off. "Everywhere she walks nothing but tragedy follows!"

     Ellie covered her ears in an attempt to block out the world. With tears trickling down her cheeks, she muttered quiet apologies—to no one in particular. She wished for everyone in the world to disappear and leave her alone. Her breathing quickened as the yells grew louder and louder from the floor beneath her. 

     She looked around her room for something to expel her anger at. She spotted a framed picture of what her family used to be: happy and united—the only thing she could never have. 

     So Ellie stood up and picked up the framed picture. After a moment of hesitation, she grit her teeth and smashed it to the ground. The picture shattered in a million pieces and scattered around her bare feet. 

     But Ellie felt no better. Realizing what she'd done, she curled up in a ball beside the broken picture and begun to weep once more. 

     And one more year passed by like a breeze. But now Ellie was no longer that little crybaby. Ellie had locked herself in her room forever; Giselle was the one to visit her grandmother's grave in the rain and feel absolutely nothing. 

     Then the memories started overlapping, as if Giselle was being dragged away from them. She could hear many people speaking in a muffled tone as if she were standing in the opposite side of a tunnel. 

     "Mariposa." The voice was distant, warbled, like an echo in a long tunnel.

     "Giselle, can you hear me?" The voice said again. 

     Giselle didn't want to answer. Her mind had shut down when it could no longer take the pain; she feared it would all return if she allowed herself back into consciousness. She sensed light on the other side of her eyelids, but knew it would be unbearable to open them. She did nothing.

     "Giselle, it's Camilo. Are you okay? Please don't die, mariposa."

     Everything came crashing back into her mind. The letter, her getting sick. Memories: her family torn apart, her father suffering through a heart attack and her grandmother's death.

     Groaning, she forced her eyes open, squinting at first. Camilo's freckled face was there, staring with frightened eyes. But then they lit up and a smile spread across his face. Despite it all, despite the terrible crappiness of it all, Camilo smiled in relief.

     "She's awake!" Τhe boy yelled to no one in particular. "Giselle is awake!"

     The booming sound of his voice made Giselle wince; she shut her eyes again. "Amí, do you have to scream? I don't feel so good."

     "Sorry—I'm just glad you're alive. You're lucky I don't give you a big kiss." Camilo took Giselle's palms and placed them across his face with a small smile. Giselle sat up and gave him a weak smile. 

     That's right, her life was better now. She didn't have to lock herself in her room with her ears covered, nor did she have to feel as though she was a "misfortune" for anyone. Even if she sometimes felt like a black sheep in the herd, the people around her loved her as if she were one of them. 

     "You kept saying stuff in your sleep." He said out of the blue, then changed his mind. "Actually, I'll leave you to rest." Camilo tried to hide his worry with a grin. 

     "Sleep tight, mi vida." Was the last thing Giselle heard Camilo say as she drifted off to the world of unconsciousness again. 

     This new dream was not a memory, unlike the ones she had earlier. Giselle seemed to be at a meetup of a night and a morning sky. 

     But she was not the only one there. 

     Standing on the darker side was Ellie—who still clung to her grudges—while on the lighter side was Camilo and his family standing a bit farther behind him with their hands all stretched out to Giselle. 

     Giselle had to choose now. Should she pick Ellie, she'd never move on from her demons but would never risk getting hurt. On the other hand, should she pick Camilo, she would finally be free from her chains—but there was a possibility of getting hurt too. 

     Looking back at Ellie, Giselle frowned and turned her heel to finally walk away. 

     "If you go that way, you'll get hurt and you'll end up like me again. You know it." It was the cold sound of Ellie's voice. 

     Giselle turned around. "But if I stay as you, I won't be happy either." 

     Ellie seemed to grit her teeth for a split second, then let her anger loose. "So that's how you thank Grand-mére? Forgetting all about her once you find someone new to care for? What about Pére? Forgotten about him too, now?" 

     Giselle hesitated now. But, she knew better than to listen. Without a single reply, she turned her back on her old self and walked closer and closer towards the people she grew to adore with all her heart. 

     Ellie continued to cry out to Giselle, but Giselle heard nothing. She accepted the Camilo's outstretched arm and ran along with him to catch up to the rest of the Madrigal clan. 

     "You'll find your way too, little me." Giselle whispered. "You'll find them one day."