Sinisterly Innocent

I just found this in my drafts from 2012. Not really sure why I wrote it or why I never published it... But why not nothing like 8 years late 😅
Enjoy?😂

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I always used to go to the park. I used to play on the swings for hours, each day. I used to watch the seasons change in the year. From the bluebells arising in the springtime accompanied with the light little sprinkles of rain. And the vibrant greens of the summer partnered with the scorching hot days. The wind that blew the array of coloured leaves in the autumn. I used to walk back through the leaves making sure I kicked them up everywhere as I walked through the lightly falling leaves. Even in the snow I watched each flake in turn fall to the ground lightly landing. The laughter of children on their sleighs and the building of snowmen. I was the age of seven and I couldn't see the entertainment factor on this activity. How I pitied them. Not knowing what they are fully capable of, honestly. They were even stupid enough to have to 'wrap up', me I wear the same outfit all year no matter what the weather is outside. I used to have my little red wellington boots and my little pink and white stripy tights and my little blue dress and my little yellow rain jacket and I would say my hat, but I didn't have one. For starts my coat had a hood so what was the point. But I had curly red hair, which was quite 'poof-y' as some would say, contrasting to my deep green eyes, almost to the point where they were black.

For the first time I can remember, I'm not in that park today. I don't have the energy to even open my eyes. I'm too comfy to move, and moving will involve even more effort. I just can't be bothered with this.

I roll over with the little energy I can waste. Except I hit more squishy stuff, but it a wall how the hell does this work. I open my eyes a little, but every things just blurry; I can make out a few shadows but it's all mainly white. The bright light from my nap does kind of blind me a little. But I pull through.

I look down and this white jacket has replaced my lovely coat. Why would they want to do this to me? I'm only a child! And my boots are also gone. My tights and dress have also been removed from my body. In their place jogging bottoms. Grey. Such a drab and boring colour compared to my previous outfit.

I could hear distant murmuring. I looked up and around to find the source. A rush of panic filtered its way into every vein in my body. Beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. My hair was sticking to my face and I was clumsily looking around me. A door at last; I think perhaps. A small eye window at the top. It reminded me of a prison door. But why would it be one of them... The only reason I say eye window is because I can see a pair of eyes, staring at me. Penetrating eyes that even made me feel scared. The first time I have felt that emotion in a long time. As soon as they notice me looking back at them, returning the stare, they dart away. The murmurs continue. Through the small slit I can see my coat hanging, at last a source of colour that brings joy to my eyes. I go to stand but fall back down. I don't understand; I appear to be hugging myself and confined to this position. Confound this white jacket!