Writing exercise, prompt 'bluebells'

The carpet of blue stretches before me, the occasional splash of yellow breaks up the blue, the canopy of trees shields me from the hottest of the sun’s rays. As I move deeper into the forest a familiar smell comes to me. It is earthy and damp, the smell of a childhood spent expelling worms from flowerbeds, digging dams in the woods and making makeshift swings from tree branches and rope.
I used to love it here in the woods, turned out of doors as soon as was breakfast was done and not expected to come back until it was tea time, those were the days when a few of us would meet in the woods, play and entertain ourselves all day, the innocence and freedom we had so plentiful.
Time has moved on though, and so have I, that was thirty years ago – and now here I am leading the hunt. A young girl of eight, older than I was my first summer in the woods, now missing for three days, and no clues as to where she could be. We have already put the distraught parents on television making a heartfelt plea for her safe return, all the adjectives describing her from her friends, teachers and family had been plastered over the local paper and local news to no avail.
As I look around at the bluebells and the ferns I can’t see any evidence of childhood games, instead the flowers that used to be tamed by the trampling of boy’s feet as we made our uncaring way through to our newest den have taken charge. The woods no longer ring with the sounds of play fights, scavenger hunts or picnics, nowadays the parks are deserted, and gardens are the refuge of choice for the school holidays. A place that for me holds so many happy memories is now the province of fly tippers and villains.
We are searching in the standard fan flank, using our batons blindly in the far- fetched hope of finding a clue. The truth is we have run out of places to look, Taya, for that is the girls name although still considered a missing person on file is regarded by the police as a body waiting to be discovered, and it seems that the obvious place to look is the place we used to play as kids. Heads bob up and down in a parody of the flowers nodding in the summer breeze, the bees drowned out by the thwack of the sticks.
The line moves forward and the radio crackles with static
‘Guv, got something’ it is the words I have both been hoping for and dreading, a clue that might lead us to the girl, a body but maybe an end to the nightmare one way or another. I know no further details will come over the radio, members of the public are assisting in the search, I approach the location with trepidation.
The officer is standing still, looking down at a heap, crumpled up and folded over and I fear the worst.
‘Medical back-up is on the way’ the Officer informs me and my only response is a curt nod. The bright red jumper and blue jeans fit in well with the woods, the bluebells nearby are the same colour as the jeans.
‘At least her clothes are still on her’ I mutter to myself and stoop down, I know I have to be careful not to disturb the scene but I need to know what I am dealing with. I pull on the standard white gloves that smell of rubber and instantly make my hands feel clammy. As I reach towards her the bundle moves and I fall over onto my bottom, an incident that will be joked about until I end my career.
A frightened face with eyes wide and wondering meet mine as I recover my composure.
‘Where am I?’’ says a little voice, cracked at the edges, we shout for water and offer it to her, gently does it.
Hours later we discover that Taya was taken by a man, he got spooked when she began screaming and left her in the woods, she made a den, just like I had all those years ago and slept under the stars. The tearful reunion brings a glisten even to the eyes of some of the most hardened officers, so rarely do we get a happy ending. As we clear up and move out I am thankful for the happy ending, thankful that the woods have once again provided a happy ending and as I leave the bluebells behind me I wonder if the next time I am here searching I will be so lucky.