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Looking okay, but feeling oh, so dead

I was just working on a story that I will probably never publish (unfortunately...), and below is a scene where the main character is daydreaming. I've replaced the main character's name with Felina just because I wanted to. :P Anyway, the main character is an orphan whom is waiting in a room with six other orphans. One of the orphans (so that makes eight orphans in total) is being interviewed by two men, only one of the men looking to adopt. Quite honestly, I just love this scene and wanted to share it with all of you. X3
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Her gaze was lost on a fancy table leg, eyes glazed and head tilted to her left. She began thinking in another way, where magic was a possibility, where only creativity was allowed, and where logic was dissed. The area around Felina faded into a rich, light blue color. A constant, cold wind blew past her as she floated. Her hair defied gravity and lifted up into the air a little bit. Wispy clouds were stuck in place, fluffy and worthy of flying through. She dared herself to look down, and only found more blue. There was no ground, there was no Earth. It was only her, the clouds, and the sky.

Felina lifted her arm and reached out to a cloud nearby her. Her fingers easily touched it. Felina found herself surprised, but yet not, as if she expected this. Her fingers did not go through the cloud, only rested against it. She stretched her arm farther, and her palm touched the cloud. Its texture was so familiar that Felina immediately knew what she was feeling. Paint. Dried paint. She looked around herself and finally noticed the perfect brush strokes that only a professional could accomplish in every cloud. It was as if she was walking through a painting. Felina willed herself to walk, and she did. She walked past every cloud, fingertips brushing against all eight of them. A sudden thought hit her, and she stopped walking.

Eight.

There were eight kids in reality at that exact moment, being interviewed by two men, one of the two men willing to adopt. Felina pondered for a short second, asking herself if she was in a dream, then shook her head and stepped back some couple steps to see all of the eight clouds. She then wondered which cloud was her. In a blink of an eye, she found herself standing in front of a cloud that looked just right, so pretty and so fluffy. Felina brought her hand up and lightly touched it with her fingers. The beautiful cloud crumpled under her fingertips. She pulled her hand back, staring at the bright light shining through the five, little holes in the cloud in wonder, curiosity dancing through her eyes. She brought her palm upon the beauty and brushed it all around, opening up a bright, shining world. Without needing to be told to, Felina stepped through with closed eyes.

She opened her eyes once she knew the bright light had faded and was surprised. This... this world... she had thought it would be beautiful. It was anything but.

The flowers were wilted, dry and a sickly dark brown. Under her bare feet was prickly, crispy, yellow grass. Naked trees leaned sideways, unable to hold themselves up by how weak they were. Instead of chirping cheerily, birds wailed sad tunes, calling and screaming for their loved ones. The sun was black, giving this ugly world a forever-cold air and casting a gloomy shadow upon the lands. Even the sky looked dead and tired, its blue hue turned into a faded gray. Not a single cloud loomed across the sky. Felina was the only healthy thing inside this horrible world, and just by looking around, she herself felt sad and as if she were dying. But she stayed there, sat on the ground and played with the dead flowers. The birds stopped their cries and used their last bursts of energy to fly to the girl. Felina did her best to comfort the depressed fliers, petting their heads and cooing.

She wondered what happened to her cloud, and guessed that she would never know. It looked so happy, so beautiful, so perfect on the outside. But on the inside? Everything was dead, and only a small hope fluttered its wings.