Parallel Universe Contest

Brushing locks one early morn, she realized her error.
As the comb had caught again, the pain from knots came clearer.
In agitation, her brush she threw.
Made no connection, instead fell through
the glass ahead, surprisingly, penetrating the mirror.

Curiosity endured, though her fear was stronger.
In the end, she found she could restrain herself no longer.
First her arm, and the rest did follow.
She slipped into a room as hollow
as the empty moans she heard, from the void all along her.

They begged, implored, and pleaded. Beseeching her for rapture.
They lamented for light the veiled mirror couldn't capture.
She cupped her ears and violently screamed,
Pleading, herself, this was something dreamed.
The dark frost of death left her rigid in enrapture.