Perfection

A girl using books to be transformed to a different world - she hears her parents fighting, and immediately thinks of an escapist solution to all of life's problems.

The girl gripped her book to her breast and closed her eyes, trying to turn off the sounds of constant fighting floating through the cracked door of her cozy room. The quarrels were no novelty - she ought to be used to them by now. But, even after all these years, there was still only one way to silence them, she thought, looking at the book in her hands speculatively.
Slowly, indecisively, she pealed it open...
She was surrounded by colorful white light and a perfectly joyful silence. Almost the same instant, the colors and laughter faded, their place taken by an endless hallway of various doors. There were doors of every color and different knobs - there were the pink ones with the butterfly latch that had been her favorite when she was little, then there were the solid gold doors, the one she thought her parents would like, and the eternally fresh bamboo door, which had always held a special place in her heart. This hallway was the one place she knew well and could - despite the ever-changing order of the doors - get around in.
She looked to the right and started strolling down the corridor, thinking about her upcoming choice - which room to enter? There was no wrong choice, and yet, she wanted to see something she hadn't before.
On her past trips, she'd seen fairies and pirates, nymphs and gods, queens and colonels; she examined the craziest and farthest parts of imagination, mythology and history, but now she wanted something special, something... unexpected.
Oh, yes, the girl thought, coming to a stop in front of a beautifully carved wooden door with an artistic lock. Everything about that door spoke of the perfect world behind it, the world that simply begged for her arrival. A Perfect world... I wonder what these doors will reveal.
Quickly, before she got the chance to back down, the girl gripped and yanked at the knob, finding herself in her own room once again, with her book open in her hands.
On the first empty page, she wrote in naive, childish letters, trying not to hear her mother scream just behind the door: 'The world will never be perfect...'
In that moment, the shouting stopped, and the little girl frightfully hurried to the door. Her parents, embraced, laughing - at peace.
The girl closed the door quietly, and opened her book again. Beneath the first line, she wrote: 'But perfection is overrated.'

Author's Note

This is a story I wrote when I was fifteen, I think. Sorry I couldn't post more recent ones yet, but they're not finished. Also, I have to translate some to English for you guys. I hope you enjoy this despite the naive feel of it.

Reviews

[Amaya Sullivan]

I like the way you described everything in detail. Also, if the girl had a name and more of a description of her room and appearance to get an idea how old she is and who she is. I'm think she is under 13, maybe.