Out the window there stood her house. Overlooking the Atlantic Ocean,the wind carelessly hitting the branch on which a once beautiful dove had merrily sang the song of two lovers. Now, the once meaningful tune was gone and her house was empty. It had been on the summer of 1965 in which I returned to the hidden village. The place where I had met Ava Colm Eden. No one knew much about her. No one care much about her.She camouflaged herself like all the other girls. She was tall. She was blonde. She was young.She was a beautiful ghost. She was my best friend, and I was her only friend. Yet she had failed to hide from me her unique wolf eyes. A flaming hot amber colored pair of eyes that promised me a beautiful sunset.Together we would seat at a bench where a lovely bird would gracefully land on a branch and listen to the song Ava and I sang. The dove stood by our side and it would merrily sing our song.Before I knew it was heading for college. "I'll be back" I promised. "I'll be here, with our song and dove," she was nostalgically crying, " waiting for your return".Now I am back,3 years later, hoping to confess the love I felt for the bearer of the fire-burning eyes that had stolen my heart. I was instantly welcomed by the song of the dove but as I looked for the bird, there came a sparrow, and swallowed my little promise, then the singing ceased to exist and a single white feather fell carelessly on a broken bench.