Work Text:
Age 9
The first time Mirabel coughed up flowers, she was confused. She hadn't been anywhere near Isabela today, not that she had been as careless with her flowers as usual. Isabela had thrown petals into Camilo's face like she normally did, but Camilo had accidentally inhaled them. He had choked on them, causing Tia Pepa and even Abuela to scold her.
Mirabel had watched with surprise and not a little bit of envy as the family had fussed over him, even Isabela. It was shortly after this that the coughing started, but she must have just caught a stray or two that hadn't been swept up. Mirabel shrugged and resolved to stay away from Isabela for the near future. That way she wouldn't accidentally get her sister in trouble if it wasn't her and maybe the distance would prevent it from happening again if it was. She didn't pay attention to the fact the flowers she had coughed up were yellow chrysanthemums, not the roses her sister usually grew.
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Age 12
By this time Mirabel had gotten used to the flowers. They had gotten better once she had started staying out of the way, but had gotten worse a year later when Antonio was born. She had hidden it the best she could out of fear she would be kept from Antonio. The only place she had was the nursery, so if the family thought she would get him sick, where would she go? Abuela had made it clear no one was to come in contact with an ill family member in hopes of preventing the sickness from spreading. So Mirabel swept up the flowers every time and made herself scarce until it was under control again. Long after everyone had gone to bed, Mirabel stayed awake.
She stared at her ceiling, listening to crickets outside and the rustling of Antonio shifting in the crib. Her thoughts kept drifting to the new potted plant on her desk. Antonio's birth had trigger one of the biggest coughing fits she had had in years. Left alone and forgotten in the nursery as everyone excitedly greeted the new baby had caused a surge of jealousy followed shortly after by the worse pain she had ever had. Her chest had burned and tears as streamed down her face as Mirabel coughed and gagged on whatever was trying to come out. Finally, as Mirabel was convinced she was going to choke, she had vomited the plant out. A blue bunch of forget me nots landed on the floor, complete with stem and roots. Mirabel had hesitantly picked it up. It was covered in blood and saliva, she couldn't understand how this had happened. This couldn't be the work of Isabela, she was petty but never cruel. She had even calmed down since Mirabel had started avoiding her. She decided that regardless of why, the plant was too pretty to be thrown away. As quietly as she could, she had potted the plant and now two years later, it was thriving.
'Could that be it?' Mirabel thought, thinking back to that day. Ever since she had done a better job of staying out of the way, Isa and even Abuela had been kinder. Usually there was sharp reminders and pointed remarks, but most days recently, she never heard a word from either of them. That's good wasn't it? It meant she was finally listening, finally being useful! Even yesterday, Abuela had agreed with Tia Pepa's remark on how well Mirabel was doing with Antonio. Mirabel had been too focused on the praise to realize how backhanded it was or how upset her mother looked at the comment.
Mirabel sat up quickly. "Maybe this is my reward for finally being good!"
With how painful it was and much of a choking hazard the petals were, of course the candle wouldn't have given this to a five year old! The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. She couldn't think of what good coughing up flowers would be, especially cause she couldn't choose what came up unlike her sister. But it's only grown stronger over the years since following Abuela's instructions to the letter and helping out with with Antonio. She had just need the chance to prove herself to the candle afterall! Mirabel hummed excitedly to herself. Tomorrow, she'd show her mom the forget me nots. Mirabel laid back down, almost too excited to sleep.
She couldn't wait for tomorrow.
-- Age 15
Mirabel gazed out the window, half listening to her teacher drone on about today's literature work, her mind occupied with Antonio's gift ceremony tonight. She stayed in the back of the class, quiet and out of the way. She didn't speak much anymore as the flowers had only gotten worse. Daffodils, wormwood, bleeding hearts. A new one every day now, another reminder of her family thinking she was crazy. Showing her mother the flower had been a disaster.
Julieta had immediately been concerned over the cough, convinced that Isabela had cause it when she saw the petals. Any lingering stain on the flower from being dragged out of Mirabel's lungs had gone away after two years of growth, leaving nothing to convince Julieta that Mirabel was being truthful. This had lead to a fight between her and Abuela as Abuela dismissed it as Mirabel lying for attention. Everything got worse again, just like after her failed ceremony. Isabela was convinced she had lied to get her in trouble, Abuela thought it was for attention. Everyone else ranged from annoyance to pity, agreeing that Mirabel was acting out. Grounded to her room had caused another massive with another flower to be potted. An orange rose this time to be added to her collection this time. Mirabel didn't know why she kept them each as more and more came. Maybe to prove herself she wasn't crazy, that she did have a gift. Antonio believed her, having heard her cough but thankfully never witnessing the event. Even Mirabel would agree that it was a gruesome sight, seeing flowers come out her mouth, blood dripping down her chin as it tore her throat up, bits of flesh still on the roots before she cleaned it up. Lately though, it felt like something wouldn't come up. There were petals when she coughed, but it felt as though something had lodged itself in her chest.
Mirabel shook her head, turning her attention back to the assignment. The class was reading a short story about Hanahaki disease and studying the themes through out it. She had never heard of it before, though the running themes of rejection and unrequited love were familiar to her. She glanced at the definition, hoping it would explain more about the trope.
Hanahaki "A person suffering from unrequited or one-sided love coughs up flower petals and, eventually, entire flowers. The condition worsens until the victim dies of suffocation, unless certain conditions are met."
Mirabel froze. She hadn't thought this was a real thing, just something used in fiction. Thinking back, every instance of coughs had been shortly after something had hurt her. Loneliness as her family talked excitedly at dinner, ignoring her presence. Jealousy over the attention Isabela got, that anyone got that was positive. Rejection whenever she reached for affection was dismissed.
"Surely not." Mirabel whispers. The bell rang shortly after, startling her. She quickly packed up her stuff and rushed to the library. She grabbed a book of flowers, determined to prove that she was wrong, that she didn't have the disease. Every flower she had coughed up had been so colorful, so pretty. Surely they would have good meanings.
As Mirabel read through the book, her heart sunk with every word. Daffodil, unrequited love. Bleeding Heart, heartbreak. Chrysanthemums, the very first flower, meant loneliness and neglected love. Mirabel bookmarked the page and quietly closed the book. She put it in her bag and prepared to head home. Everything felt muted, a faint buzzing in her ears the only sound. She walked home numbly, her silence drawing no attention from anyone.
As she reached the nursery, her chest began to hurt as every piece fell into place like a puzzle she never wanted to complete. Mirabel stared at the flowers that covered her window sill and desk, every one of them a mockery of what she thought they meant. This was never a gift, it was a curse. A curse to remind her that her family didn't love her except for Antonio. Antonio would be getting his gift tonight if all went well, once again showing her unworthiness.
Mirabel went about the rest of the day as normal, a passive smile on her face hiding the pain that grew in her chest as every bitter truth rang in her mind. She could swear she could feel a flower bud at the back of her throat as she prepared for the ceremony. Everything went smoothly, she stayed away from the preparations to be in the nursery with Antonio, getting him ready for tonight. The only hiccup was his request to walk him up the stairs. Even at her lowest state, Mirabel could never deny her youngest cousin.
Mirabel was forgotten once again as Antonio did what she couldn't, gaining a gift and a place in the Madrigal family. The shutter of a camera could be heard behind her as she left for the nursery. As soon as the door closed, she began heaving as the flower pushed it's way up her throat. Her choking was silent, not able to get enough air to make a sound. She doubt Dolores could hear her over the party, not that she had ever gave any indication to hearing Mirabel before.
Casita rattled around her in alarm, a flurry of tiles attempting to gain anyone's attention. Mirabel coughed and gagged as more and more flowers pushed through, each one a different kind. In a slow instinctive way, Mirabel knew this was the last. She had accepted her family didn't love her and probably never would. All that remained was her accepting of her death. She wished she could say it was quick.
Unfortunately over the course of the party, Mirabel slowly died, loosing air and blood as the bouquet sought new ways to grow out of her. By the time her family responded to Casita's alarm, Mirabel was gone. A beautiful arrangement of flowers had grown from her, the colors similar to a sunset as yellow carnations, orange lilies, and black roses took center stage. The book about flowers and her homework had spilled out of her bag when Casita knocked the chair over in her haste for attention.
There would be no flowers at Mirabel's funeral as the Madrigals realized what had taken her and the part they had played in it.