Our Doves

I held the dove close to my heart. As everyone did. I smiled as they all hooted. This was life. Our doves were pure, as our hearts. Then one day, I stared at my friend's dove. The poor thing looked tired, it's feathers were dirty. My friend stared at me emotionless as she walked by. I looked at my pure dove, ran to her and took her dove. For a few moments she looked broken, falling to the ground and curling up into a ball. Now I held both of our doves. I handed her my pure dove and she looked scared for me. I felt it. I saw it. The darkness that had been eating at her for years. What he did to her was monstrous. I looked into her eyes and faked a smile just as she had all those years. I opened my arms and embraced her tightly. I was happy that she was happy, and wanted her to always feel that way. The dove flew to my shoulders and shook the dirt away. The difference of me and her, was that my dove had always been black, we had gone through the same things. But unlike her, I could forgive. Even if I didn't want to.
The thought that ran through my mind after things had happened(I think it's obvious) were that life still moved on. It would move with or without my permission it would move. So I decided to move with it, move past the pain, and not let my attackers steal my dove.