The Guilty Mind of Hasina

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hasina nodded her head. She was too engulfed in the masterpiece before her.

“It’s on sale! It came from a very nice family not too far from here. Mmmhmm, sure did. It was their daughter’s. A nice little young thing. I’ll tell you something. You take it home today, come back tomorrow, and tell me how you like it, and I’ll tell you about who it belonged to.”

Hasina looked at the middle-aged woman. She noticed that her smile was not genuine. “How much for it today?” She was not rich, but she would be crazy to pass a mirror like this up. “I’m sorry, I never got your name.”

“Rebarra and I’ll give it to you for free dear.” Hasina smiled as she saw her eyes squint with true happiness.

“I couldn’t do that. Name any price, please, it’ll make me feel better.” It would make her feel even better if she got it for less than 50 dollars.

Rebarra shook her head,” If you must pay, make it 20 dollars, no refund, and you can come back tomorrow for the back story.”

“Sounds perfect!” She paid the lady, loaded the mirror into her car, and headed home.

When she got home, she did her nightly routine and plopped down in her recliner. Hasina flipped through the channels on her TV for hours. 

Deciding to call it a night, she stopped to admire her new mirror. It was a decent size mirror. Dark wood outlined the clean, scratch-free glass. The dark chocolate wood was engraved with various symbols and different designs. The best part, that drew Hasina to the mirror, was the liquid gold that covered the sides. It was almost like it was gracefully poured from the top of the mirror and it followed the path of the beautiful engravings. 

As soon as she looked into it, she looked away, hurried to her room, and crawled under her blankets. “That was not real,” she whispered to herself. “Lekenna is dead and she’s never coming back.” That night she dreamed of memories she wanted to be long forgotten.

—-

Look at her; looking at me.

I wonder if she can tell that I’m uninterested.

Nod so it looks like I’m paying attention.

What a floozy, it’s hard to imagine we were ever best friends.

I’m pretty sure I never liked her.

Then why am I even standing here wasting my time?

Ooops… She's looking at me expectantly. What’d she say? She must’ve asked a question.

Shrug! Shrug now!

There… 

Smile - not too big. Tell her you're not feeling well and end this conversation.

I’m a bad person; no I’m not, but I definitely am.

She wants to make MORE plans? We just saw each other today. I’m STILL looking at her.

 Say goodbye and leave; quicker.

Run away, start your car, and get out of here.

~~~

Jeez! She texted me already? 

Swipe and delete.

Why doesn’t she take a hint?

Probably because my hints suck, I’ll try harder.

My phone went off again? I just want to be left alone.

Oh.. It’s two messages. One from my aunt and one from my sister.

Aunt first… There is no possible way she thought it was important to text me,

“Lekenna wants you to text her back.”

Frustrated swipe and delete.

What did my sister want?

“Tell your friend to leave me alone… She wants you to text her.”

Madness, this is absolutely madness.

Ironic how she wants to be left alone too.

Just delete it and turn the phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ until tomorrow.

~~~

I know my phone isn’t ringing. The whole purpose of DND is not to be disturbed.

Delete it all. 

Every app must go.

Change your number.

Finally peace at last.

Nothing nice lasts forever.

Who would be knocking at my door? It’s 3 in the morning.

Lekenna.

She lives too close.

Open the blinds so she can see you.

Hold eye contact; close the blinds.

Might as well start packing.

~~~

This is nice.

No one knows where I live.

No one has my number.

I’m left alone all of the time and I love it.

Might as well go for a walk.

Oh! Someone else is moving into this neighborhood.

Must be a popular place.

That hair looks familiar; my chest feels queasy; ignore it.

Walk away. Go back home.

Did someone just call my name?

Run, run fast.

Finally inside - lock the door.

I’m being paranoid. I’m being VERY paranoid.

Peep through the blinds.

It’s Lekenna… I’m not paranoid.

I’ll just go - to be safe,

I can always start packing tomorrow.

—-

Hasina’s body lurched forward and she now sat in bed, covered in sweat. Her mind was racing from her dream, only it was not a dream, nor a nightmare. It was her memories. Guilt smothered her, it sat heavy on her chest, making her nauseous.

She got out of bed, slipped on her warm house slippers, and went into the kitchen for breakfast. She almost dropped her plate when she turned from the stove and saw Lekenna standing by her kitchen island. 

“You’re dead,” she shouted, “must you stalk me even in your death?” Lekenna felt herself becoming overwhelmed with the guilt. “You’re in my dreams! In my house! You should just disappear, you need to find someone else to obsess over.” 

Hasina ran back to her room and threw on an outfit. When she opened her bedroom door, Lekenna stood there with a sad smile on her face. 

“We used to be best friends,” Lekenna’s voice sent a shiver down Hasina’s spine. She never thought she would hear her voice again; she never wanted to. “Do you know how I died?” 

Hasina shook her head so hard she began to get a migraine. She ran to her car and started it up. She refused to look in her rear view mirror, out of fear that Lekenna would appear in her back seat.

“What about my family? Are they okay? Are they happy?” Her former friend looked sad from the passenger seat. Hasina put her car in reverse and backed up like someone was chasing her. She had made it to the end of her road when the pressure on her chest lifted, the guilt lessened, and her nausea disappeared. 

She leaned her head on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. After she got herself together, she headed towards Rebarra’s antique store to get her mind off of everything that was happening at home.

The shop was very old on the outside, it had a rustic look that you either loved or hated. Hasina loved it, she loved the inside even more. It was the coziest antique store she’d ever been to. When she stepped inside she took another deep breath, letting the smell of old furniture and cinnamon calm her senses.

“Rebarra! I’m here! Where are you?” The middle aged woman was all the way in the back of the store, she said nothing as she waddled her way to the front door. She flipped the sign to say closed and locked the door. “I’ll just take my break now, this way we can talk without me having to help customers in the middle of our nice conversation, dear.”

Hasina followed her to the back of the store and grinned as she saw a very old living room set with two cups of tea on the coffee table. “I love this color,” Hasina said, rubbing her hand along the velvet couch, “and the tea smells amazing.”

“I thought you might like it, now before we begin I would like to say I am sorry, deeply sorry. I ask that you ask as many questions as you want, dear. Now where should I start?” Rebarra asked the last part as if she were talking to herself, but Hasina already had questions in her mind.

“Tell me about who had the mirror before me.”

Rebarra nodded her head and smiled brightly at her. “She was a wonderful young woman. She would always come around on her lunch breaks before she moved away. She had three beautiful kids and they would come here with her sometimes. Always laughing, that one. She always did what she had to, making sure her family was happy. Her husband, that poor man, died a few years before her. Bless his soul, he was hit by a drunk driver on his way to pick the kids up from daycare. He was a good man, the world took him away too soon.”

Hasina nodded her head slowly, urging her to go on.

“Before she moved away, she would come in here out of her wits. Something was scaring her deeply. She began to tell me about a good friend of hers, one that she’d wronged deeply. She started talking all this nonsense about how her friend was drifting apart and the mirror wanted her to stop it from happening.” 

Rebarra paused and took a small sip of her tea before continuing. Hasina did the same, forgetting that it was there and wanting to taste it before it got cold.

Rebarra sighed heavily, “I thought the poor girl had gone insane. A mirror does not have wants, but I let her vent to me. She really needed it too.”

Hasina asked the question before her brain could tell her mouth to keep quiet and listen. “What did she do to wrong her friend?”

“She did something very bad. She saw her child drown. She left the scene and didn’t tell anyone about it. When her friend found her daughter she was beside herself in grief. Finally, she confessed that she saw it happen and that she was too shocked and afraid to move. To do anything.”

Hasina paled. She could relate to that all too well. She had lost her daughter the same way. Had the same thing happen to her. “How did her friend handle that?” She asked this in the hope of seeing if she reacted in a normal way. She wanted to feel as if she did nothing wrong after losing her own child.

“I think she did the best she could. She tried to forgive her, but over time she just resented being around her,” Rebarra shook her head sadly, “The woman did not give her space to grieve. I think her talk of the mirror made it worse. All she wanted was to be around her friend and make things right, but how can you fix a wrong so bad?”

“”How did she die?” Hasina asked so quietly, the woman in front of her almost did not hear.

“She jumped off a building. Police said her guilt got to be too much, but I know the truth. It was that mirror. The same one you took into your home yesterday and for that, I must apologize.”

Hasina’s thoughts were racing. Lekenna died a similar death. Except she didn’t jump. She was pushed by Hasina. She’d never admit to anyone what she did. It was a moment of weakness and Lekenna just wouldn’t leave her alone. She’d appear everywhere no matter where Hasina moved to get away.

Rebarra continued, suddenly speaking very fast, “After she died, I received a package in the mail. It was that mirror and a letter. She’d given it to me in her will.”

She pulled a paper out of her jacket pocket and waved it briefly in front of Hasina’s face.

“This is what it reads. 

‘Please forgive me for leaving this in your name. I know of the horrors it can bring, but I cannot allow it to plague my family any longer. 

If you’re getting this letter, something has happened to me. I fear the guilt is getting too bad. What I did to my friend is unforgivable. 

There’s something else you should know about this mirror. I bought it at an antique store just like yours. The owners were far too happy to give it to me. They said it was cursed a long time ago.

 It cannot be destroyed. 

It will always reside in the home of whoever purchases it, no matter where they move. 

They will be driven mad by their biggest guilt. 

The only way to get rid of it and the guilt is by selling it to someone who is willing to pay a price for it. 

The price can be anything. Money, a service, a compliment.

 No one knows how the mirror knows who its owner is, but it does. 

I never believed them. I was already drowning in my own guilt, but it’s true. It’s all true.

So I’m giving this to you. DO NOT bring it to your home. Sell it to someone who looks guilt-free.

And also, I want to thank you for our talks. They meant the world to me. I wish that we meet in our next lives and continue to chat each other's ears off.

Much love, Lekenna.’”

Rebarra wiped away a lone tear with a small smile on her face at the end of the letter. Hasina on the other hand was struggling not to empty her partially eaten breakfast on the antique rug. 

“Do you have any questions, dear?” Rebarra looked very concerned for her. “I am so sorry, but you looked so nice. You looked like you never harmed a fly in your life.”

Hasina shot up from her seat, “I have to go.” She rushed out of the store, went to her house, and loaded the mirror into her car. She went back inside, grabbed a marker, a blanket, and a big piece of paper.

“Are my kids happy now that you killed me?” Lekenna stood in the doorway drenched in blood. She still looked very sad and not angry like Hasina thought she would be. 

“You’re going to be out of my life for good. I don’t know how your kids are,” she shouted, “but I know they are alive, unlike my little girl.”

She threw her things in the back seat and drove until she reached the biggest part of the city. She placed the mirror on the sidewalk and put the blanket over it. She wrote on the paper, ‘Give me anything you want for this beautiful surprise!’ Raising it high in the air she did not feel bad, it had to go. For her sanity.

Eventually, someone came along with a 5 dollar bill and she gladly took it from them. Hopped in the car and went home. Weeks later she moved again. This time across the country she made a promise to herself, to never step into an antique store again.