It was busy that day. It was the last day of the fall semester when the last batch of finals was being held. The semester had started a few weeks later than normal because of a tsunami scare, followed by a freak earthquake. The religious groups around the city were up in arms, claiming that it was a sign of the coming end times. Rosaendra had been a part of the cleanup of the college. It took a little over a week to finish it up, and for scheduled classes to begin.

Students filtered in and out. Some to kill time between two classes, and some to just hang out in a warm, dry place. Most, however, came up to the front counter to deposit the books they had been hoarding for the semester to avoid the fees for taking them over at the end of the semester, or to return borrowed textbooks.

At around ten, a confused student walked in. He glanced around nervously before waiting in the queue. He was of medium stature with wavy auburn hair, and a pair of transition shades that were slowly losing their color to reveal his gray eyes. He wore a collared shirt tucked into a pair of pressed black slacks. His dress shoes click-clacked across the tile floor as he approached the front counter. She thought that this must be the agent that had been sent to check in on her.

“Uh hello,” He muttered, glancing around, “Sorry, I am a, how do you say, an exchange student from France, and...”

“Did you need something?” Rosaendra asked as she propped her chin on her palm.

“Ah, yes the office is here?”

“No, no. Go back that way,” She pointed north, “You’ll see a fountain, it’s the large building to the right.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” He bowed his head and left in a hurry, heading north and vanishing from sight.

When he was gone, Ashley turned to Rosaendra.

“Rosie! I didn’t know you could speak French!”

“What do you mean?” Rosaendra tilted her head a little.

“With that man? You were speaking French?”

“No...that was English?”

Ashley scoffed as if she had heard a bad joke, and looked as if she were about to say something when another student came up and drew her attention away from the conversation. Was it really French? But she spoke English, right? That’s the way she heard it. Her thoughts returned to the dream she had the night before, and the wish she had made at the very end. Nah, couldn’t be true. Ashley had just heard wrong.

The flow of people ended at around noon, and Ashley dismissed Rosaendra for lunch. In the staff room in the back, Rosaendra dug through her backpack and pulled out the lesser key, and flipped through it. She was able to read every single page as if it were plain English. She pulled out her Latin-to-English dictionary and flipped through it. Every single word in it was English.

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Her mind raced. The dream must have been true. Either that or she was having a stroke. She dug around her backpack until her hand brushed against the cold, round outline of a makeup mirror buried at the very bottom, she pulled it out, and it was one that she hadn’t seen before. Was this another gift from Ashley? The outside was shining silver, with a rune embedded into the back, and the words, “To talk and to receive,” were engraved on the outer circumference of it. She pressed the button on the front, and it flipped open.

The glass was dark as if she were staring into a pair of sunglasses. White mist curled and danced in the space beyond the mirror, it curled and conjugated in the middle of the mirror.

Hello, Rosaendra. The curling mists spelled out in cursive.

Rosaendra slammed the mirror shut and tossed it back into the backpack. What was going on? Sweat poured down her forehead and her stomach began to twist and turn. Must have been pre-programmed by Ashley, she told herself and took a deep breath. Must be. Must be. The twists in her stomach stopped, and she pushed herself away from the table and walked to the water cooler. She drank a few cups. The first one fell from her shaking grasp, and by the second the shaking had stopped. She finished the last cup, tossed it into the plastic bin beside her, and walked back to her seat.

Once there she pulled her phone from her pocket and brought it in front of her. On the dark reflective surface, she saw the same curling white smoke.

It isn’t. It spells out.

Her phone fell from her grasp and clattered to a stop on top of the wooden table. The nausea returned in force, and she scrambled to her feet to the sink and dry heaved into it. Her body shook as if it were fighting off a fever. Fuck. What was going on? Was that dream true? Either that or she had finally lost her mind. She had heard it had happened before. People with her interests suddenly develop symptoms of schizophrenia when they delve too deep into the occult. Perhaps the translating of the text the night before had finally pushed her over the edge?

No. She refused to believe she was going crazy. That was just the conditioning talking. Or was it? She grabbed the sides of her head with both of her hands and dug her fingers into her tied-up red hair.

“Rosie? Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really.” She said, “I think I caught something on the way home last night.”

“Do you need to go home a bit early? Me and Cassandra could do the inventory.”

Rosaendra hesitated for a moment. She wanted to say no, but she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Thank you, Ashley. I’m sorry.”

“No! No problem. Go home! Rest for a day or two, okay?”

“Okay.”

She hung her head as she grabbed her phone and her bag, and exited the room. Ashley followed after her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“See that guy over there?”

Ashley motioned to a young man loitering by the door in tan khakis, sandals, and a gray hoodie. She spoke in a hushed whisper. His blonde hair was slicked back neatly. He glanced in their direction when she walked out.

“What about him?”

“I think he’s interested in you.” She spoke in a cheery tone, “He was asking all about you. If you were working today, and if you had any plans for the night.” Ashley giggled like a school girl as she finished her sentence.

“I’ll tell him I don’t and I’m feeling sick.” Rosaendra rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry again, Ashley.”

“Aww, you’re no fun. At least get his number~” Ashley winked at the man as he glanced again.

As Rosaendra neared the door she spoke to the man.

“I already told Williams that that part of my life was over. I’m not doing anything tonight.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Don’t confuse my coworkers next time, okay?”

She hurried past the man and out the door — clutching her backpack to her chest as she hurried across the campus to the packed bus. She had enough time to slip on her earbuds and got there just as the bus pulled up. She queued in the back of the line, paid, and went home on that crowded bus. Questions, doubt, and insanity plagued her mind.