Mirabel never wanted to be jealous. She tried her hardest every day to push down the emotion, holding it back with every ounce of her mental strength. There was a lot to be jealous about in her family, but Mirabel wanted to believe that she was somehow better than the negative emotion. She didn't have a gift when everyone else did. She couldn't be helpful to anyone even though she desperately tried to be. She wasn't given much attention because of how frequently her family was gone, far away from her grasp and even farther away in their hearts. Mirabel could have long since devolved into a bitter being hellbent on dragging others down with her because of how worthless she felt. Mirabel kept her sanity somehow. She kept her wits about her even when the world seemed to be punishing her for a crime she couldn't remember committing. Mirabel simply refused to be jealous, and that usually worked.

Mirabel did make one exception. Well, she didn't make the exception, it just sort of happened that way. When they were younger, Isabela and Mirabel had been fairly close. They were sisters, after all, the oldest and youngest of their parents. Even when Mirabel's door had faded away, Isabela didn't treat her any differently. Isabela actually seemed to treat Mirabel with more affection, more attentive care like she suspected Mirabel was fragile. They began to drift when Abuela gave Isabela responsibilities. The older girl had things she needed to do during the day that couldn't involve Mirabel. The younger tried to be understanding, but she felt the pangs of loneliness when she realized that she was all alone. Mirabel, the selfish parts of her, hoped that Isabela had been just as sad to be away from her sister. Mirabel was shown the truth when she saw how happy Isabela was. The eldest of the third generation took her purpose in stride, all beautiful smiles and shining eyes as she made the prettiest flowers to adorn the village in splendor. Mirabel tried reaching out a few times, but Isabela was always busy. In fact, Isabela's declining words became harsher and harsher until Mirabel stopped bothering her sister.

Mirabel wanted Isabela to be happy. She wanted her whole family to be cheerful. Mirabel supposed that some part of her wanted Isabela to be glad with her, to smile because they were hanging out together. Mirabel didn't have to be the only source of elation, she just wanted a few moments of her sister's time without the elder scowling at her for being the family disappointment. Mirabel thought it was cruel how her earnest desire for Isabela's mirth had morphed into cold resentment. Mirabel hated how Isabela was effortlessly the best, a shining jewel in the eyes of everyone who saw her. Abuela was the most proud of her, she was beautiful, and it didn't seem like Isabela could do anything wrong. Isabela had everything that Mirabel always wanted, and that only ensured that the rift between the two girls would widen until it was uncrossable. Mirabel could shout as loud as she wanted, but she couldn't get her words to pass the canyon between them that way Isabela would listen. Mirabel didn't even know if Isabela would even care if she knew how hurt Mirabel was.

When indifference meets envy, it rarely results in anything pretty. This is probably how the argument started in the first place. Mirabel wanted to show everyone the new things that Isabela had made. There were trees and cacti that Isabela had never made before that had their own charm unlike any of her perfect flowers. Mirabel wanted the whole family to see, to be proud of Isabela in the same way that she was. Isabela, on the other hand, wanted to forget all about her small act of rebellion the moment Maribel picked one of the cacti up to show their parents. Isabela merely had to flick her hand to make the vines restrict Mirabel's path. The younger huffed, her eyes looking back at Isabela before she dove right through the vines. Isabela's eyes widened as she rushed forwards to make sure her sister was okay. A handful of the cactus' glochids stuck in her clothes, a few piercing her arm to draw a drop of blood. Mirabel lifted the cactus up like it was a prize as she stood up, smiling at her sister like Isabela's unspoken threat had been a joke instead. Isabela rolled her eyes, wrapping her sister up in vines. When the vines reached her neck, they raised up to retrieve the cactus, placing it back into Isabela's awaiting arms. "Not a word of this... to anyone."

Mirabel opened her mouth to speak, but Isabela tilted her head towards her younger sister. The vines responded by shooting a flower into Mirabel's mouth making it look like the plant was growing out of her mouth. Mirabel spat the flower out, her eyes narrowing into a glare behind her glasses as she returned her attention to Isabela. "Come on, Isa! This is something worth celebrating! We should be telling everyone! There are so many possibilities for what you can grow now that we know you aren't limited by flowers!"

"Absolutely not. This... all of this stays between us, do you understand me? You have ruined enough things for me. Don't make this another thing that you mess up," Isabela retorted, the cruel words quick to leave her tongue. She internally sighed as her mind replayed the words. She was being too harsh to Mirabel.

"I haven't messed anything up! You said it yourself that you don't even like Mariano! You were having fun when you were growing all those things. Isa, we were having fun together like we used to. Isn't that me making things better?" Mirabel exclaimed with a persevering hope lingering in her eyes. Isabela had only found it amazing how Mirabel could remain optimistic even when it didn't seem like there was anything good on the horizon for her. Isabela had once been jealous of it, but she soon learned that it was a foolish folly to aspire for a future that could never exist. Mirabel was kidding herself, and Isabela was happy that she wouldn't feel the desolation that would take the place of her expectations.

"Don't you get it, Mirabel? Even if I don't like Mariano, I'm going to marry him for the family's sake. Even if I can grow other things, I am only going to grow what is needed by the community. It doesn't matter if we had a little fun today. It won't... can't happen ever again. I have responsibilities, Maribel. People depend on me, and just because you can't be helpful doesn't mean that you can distract those who can be," Isabela snapped. Anger blossomed in her heart like the flower buds underneath her fingertips. Isabela knew, deep down, that it wasn't fair to take her anger out on Mirabel. Everyone was feeling tense and frustrated with the marriage proposal failing, Luisa's strength coming and going, the supposed cracks in the house, and a lot more issues that were rising to the surface from years of ignoring them. That wise part of Isabela wasn't enough to restrain her emotional side, however, because the words came from her lips faster than her brain could make sure they wouldn't hurt Mirabel's feelings.

"You don't get to say that. I do help people. I may not be as special as the rest of you, but that doesn't mean that I don't bring something to the table. No one expects you to be perfect, Isa. They want you to be happy. I'm sure if we talked to Abuela, she would let you have a few moments to yourself to grow whatever you were feeling. We can talk to the Guzmán's about cancelling the marriage proposal," Maribel said. She pulled herself loose from the vines, standing with her arms out as she looked at Isabela with pleading eyes. Mirabel was continuing to be empathetic, she was continuing to listen to her emotions, trying to make peace with Isabela. Apparently, Isabela didn't get the message.

"You have no idea what it's like because no one expects anything from you. Quit pretending that it's simple. It's not. This family is supposed to help the village because we were blessed with a miracle... unlike you. We have duties to fulfill. We're willing to put our own opinions aside for the greater good. If you can't understand that, then maybe it is for the best that you didn't get a gift. You're selfish, Mirabel," Isabela said. Isabela lifted the cactus until it was at arm's length with her. She glared at the plant until it shriveled up. The green coloring sickened into a rotten black as the needles fell down onto the ground. Once the plant had completely disappeared back into the soil, Isabela could see Mirabel's wide eyes, the glimmer of tears pooling in them. Isabela felt the need to apologize like a punch to her gut, but the urge went away as soon as Mirabel's expression became angry.

"I am not the selfish one. I always put my family first. I would do anything for them, and you know that. You are the one who is selfish. You abandoned me when we were kids. You chose to be Senorita Perfecta, and that is no one's fault but your own. You put these expectations on your back, and everyone just followed your lead," Mirabel spat as she ripped the pot that the cactus had been in from Isabela's hands. Mirabel held it close to her chest, and it was now that Isabela could see a slight tremble in her sister's hands. Isabela didn't know if the shaking was from anger or nervousness. She didn't really care.

"Are you still hung up about that? Our friendship as children? How immature are you? I try my hardest every day to make people happy, to make our village look beautiful, to make our family proud, and you're still upset because I stopped hanging out with you? Have you ever considered that us not spending time together was my own choice? You're pathetic, little sister. Is this why you try so hard? Because you think it will give you attention? That's not how it works. You're useless, Mirabel. You strive to prove your worth, and how fruitful has that endeavor been for you?" Isabela said. Mirabel's shaking had gotten worse. She dropped the pot onto the ground, the ceramic shattering into many pieces. Mirabel was instantly at her knees, trying to pick up the pieces to put them back together even when her hands were starting to bleed. Isabela watched for a few minutes before she rolled her eyes. With one sweep of her hand, vines shot out to collect all the pieces, cleaning the mess up. Mirabel remained on the ground, staring down at her hands. Isabela sighed dejectedly. "I didn't mean it like that, Mirabel. I just... we all have our strong suits. You don't need to try so hard anymore. I'll keep doing what I need to, and you can... find something better to do with your time. You're setting yourself up for failure."

"Will I ever be good enough for you?" Mirabel whispered. It was a quiet noise that lacked the usual warmth of Mirabel's expressions. Isabela had almost wondered if it had really been said, but Mirabel was starting to lift onto her feet. When their eyes met, Isabela had to keep in a little gasp. Mirabel looked miserable without the normal shine in her eyes. "Would you like it if I just... disappeared? If I went away forever, no mess or fuss or fucks given about it?" Mirabel took a shuddering step forwards towards Isabela, who was frozen where she stood. "Would I finally be useful if I dug my own grave, and lied there until the earth swallowed me up?" Mirabel kept walking, and Isabel couldn't move any part of her. "Would you like me more if I became fertilizer for your plants? Would you love me if I finally understood how meaningless I was?" Mirabel was now in front of Isabela. Tears were falling down Mirabel's cheeks as she hit her knees, hands instinctively pulling Isabela's dress, staining the pink a blood red from all of her cuts. "Tell me what it would take for you to be proud of me. How can I make you smile like when we were kids, when you didn't think I was a disappointment?"

Isabela couldn't do anything for a few moments. She just listened to Maribel's sobbing as her younger sister clung to her like a child hugged their toys after a harsh nightmare. Except this wasn't a nightmare. Isabela and Maribel had both said those things to each other out louds, words that can never be taken back that would scar them both. That realization is what forced Isabela to her knees, her arms wrapping around Maribel's shaking body. Isabela was breathless until she could force a breath out. Soon, Isabela was holding onto Mirabel like the younger was the only thing keeping her together, even when Mirabel had already come undone. Isabela looked up as she ran her fingers through Mirabel's hair. She wondered, vaguely, how long it would take for someone to retrieve them. Surely, Dolores had heard their argument. Dolores would have heard the pot breaking, which would have prompted her to tell Julieta, at least. Maybe Abuela would come back to see the mess that the golden child and outcast had devolved into. Isabela didn't know. She didn't even want to know. She knew what she needed to do, though.

"I'm sorry, mi mariposa. I said some things that I never should have said. I wasn't thinking. I was frustrated at things beyond both of our control. But I will never wish for you to disappear or die. I never wanted to stop being your friend. I felt I had to in order to protect both of us, but I was wrong. I should have known that I was hurting you. Please don't ever think that I want you gone. You're my little mariposa, remember?" Isabela whispered. Mirabel didn't respond, but she seemed to be settling down. Isabela wished she could have said more. She said some things that she really hadn't meant to, and even if there wasn't any excuse that could justify it, she hoped that enough apologies and reassurances could make the situation somewhat better. Isabela would have done anything to take back what she said. She would have done anything to unhear those words from her sister.

Indifference and envy never make a pretty image.