You emerge back into the second-floor hall. You're not sure where to go next, as most of the doors look the same, so you pick one at random. The knob turns easily and the door creaks softly as it reveals the room within.
Mirrors line all three walls. You can't be sure with the mirrors confusing you, but you think this room is just as small as the bathroom. This time, though, there is nothing to get in the way and make the space more cramped. You find a light similar to the one in the bathroom and pull the chain. It works, so you close the door. On the inside of the door you see numerous hair accessories dangling from hooks and little baskets.
You turn to the mirrors and see yourself from all angles, admiring the fancy and cute dress once more despite yourself. Again though, as your gaze lifts from the clothing to your face, you frown at your pale complexion. Then a new thought comes to mind. So far this house has not been what it seems. Every room has a way of changing you in some way. Did this one pose a similar threat?
You decide not to wait any longer to find out, and start to turn back to the door. Just then you freeze. Your eyes look back at the mirror opposite the door, and you blink to make sure you're not hallucinating.
You're not. Your reflection didn't turn with you. You turn back to face it, then look at the two side wall mirrors. Those are behaving just fine. Meanwhile your reflection in front of you hasn't rotated. Hasn't moved. It just stares at you with the worried expression you had on your face when you decided to leave the room alone. You walk a bit closer, reaching out a hand to verify that it's a mirror and not some kind of projection.
Suddenly, the you in the mirror blinks and straightens up. You jump back in surprise, almost falling over. You're still not used to moving around in those platforms. You brace one arm against the right mirror and slowly approach the center one. Your reflection waves and smiles with her little black lips. You nervously raise a hand in response. Then she points behind her. You take a look at the door and, seeing nothing is different, look back at her. She shakes her head, then reaches behind her to grab some of her hair. She gently pulls the hair to her front, smiles and points to it, stabbing it repeatedly with her finger so you'll understand.
"My hair?" Your voice echoes harshly in the small room. You glance at the left mirror, turning your back to it and twisting your neck. It's waist-length and dark brown, just like it always was.
Wait a minute. Wasn't it shorter after you had gotten younger? You take another look and realize that it's slowly getting longer. You turn back to the reflection in the mirror, whose smile is even broader now that you've made the discovery.
"How can I stop it?" You ask anxiously. The you in the mirror moves her mouth, but you can't hear what she's saying. A quick glance at another mirror shows your hair has gained another few inches and, if you're not mistaken, it's getting darker too.
I can't hear you," you respond. "What do I do?"
Your reflection keeps repeating a few select syllables, making a visible effort to help you read her lips.
"Ahh waaaah?" "Saheee weeen?" you try to vocalize the words by mimicking her.
In the mirror you can see your reflection's hair creeping past the back of her skirt. If you don't stop it soon, you're going to need a pair of scissors, and considering your track record, if you found any in this house they'd probably come with a curse of their own.
The girl in the mirror waves her arms frantically, moving her mouth very slowly now. Then it dawns on you.
"WHEN!" you shout. Your voice echoes loudly, and you wince. For a few seconds there is a dull ringing in your ears. When you open your eyes, your reflection is back to normal. The mirror is a real mirror again.
You check your hair. True to the command, it has stopped growing. But now it's quite long. In fact, if it weren't for the platforms, it'd be touching the floor by now. The strands are no longer dark brown. They're jet black, with a hint of shine. The voluminous locks spread across your backside, falling down to within inches of the floor and scraping the tall heels of your platforms.
It seems you're always caught in a room gazing at your reflection today. As you survey the addition to your increasingly lovely frame, you realize how much your new hair compliments the other changes made. You're definitely looking like a goth now. But how was this happening, and more importantly, is there a way to get back to your old appearance?
You turn to exit the room, wishing you had never entered. Your hair sways around and slaps your legs. It feels very distracting. Fortunately, now you have an arsenal of hair ties and other accessories to deal with it. You scan the various objects strung up on the door, trying to decide which to use to tie back your hair.