This is the first fan fiction that I ever wrote. I wrote it my freshman
year in high school, so it's about six years old and kind of rusty. If you
never read "The Giver" it may not make much sense. It's really too hard to
explain the book in a short time, so I will just suggest that anyone
interested read it. It's a great book.
By the way DISCLAIMER: I did not right "The Giver" nor do I own the copyrights. I did this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of my readers. I am not profiting monetarily from this fan fiction.
Then as if by machine both sled and snow stopped. Jonas clutched Gabriel closer to him. He could plainly see the dwelling, the lights, and hear the music. The door suddenly burst open and people began to walk outside.
Children lay on the ground and moved their arms and legs back and forth. Adults and Elders talked and laughed, to Jonas's amazement often tapping or touching each other.
And even with all the differences there was a strange similarity. Something seemed to remind him of something Before. Something before memories and colors and pain. Something he knew.
Frantically he waved his arms and shouted, as he had memories of people on desert islands doing. The people looked up. The young children stopped their play. Three adults, all males, came running. They picked hum up and carried him inside the house.
Once inside they placed him on a sofa near the fireplace. An elderly female came and started rubbing his feet. At first all that he felt was the pressure of her hands, but with time he felt pain. Excruciating pain. Sharp flashes of pain. Deep, gut-wrenching pain.
"Well, we saved your feet." She replied cheerfully as she stopped rubbing. "What's your name, honey?"
"Jonas," he replied trying not to mumble although it was hard to speak clearly.
"What's the baby's?" she asked sweetly.
"Gabriel?!?" Jonas shouted forgetting his pain. "Where's Gabriel?"
"He's ok. Rose has him, she's cleaning him up, making him all comfy okay?" There was something about the way she said comfy that reminded him of Before, but what it was he couldn't say.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Larissa, but everybody here calls me granny, so you can too. Would you mind telling me what a boy and a baby are doing out in a snow storm. It's a long trip here to the next town. Where did you come from anyway?"
"Larissa?" Jonas thought. That name sounded familiar, but it was a name from Before and Before was very blurry. "My family unit and I live in the community. I ran away with Gabriel because they were going to kill him. I had to set everyone free. I can't remember much more."
"That's okay, honey," she said softly. "What community was that again?"
Jonas laughed. It never had occurred to him to name the community. He wasn't sure it had a name. It had always been The Community.
Before he could explain his laughter a young female about Jonas's age walked in holding Gabe. She laughed about cooed at him, her laughter made Jonas smile. It made him feel warm and safe.
"Jonas, this is Rosemary. Rosemary, this is Jonas." Larissa said cheerily.
"Hello," he said bowing a little in greeting.
"Hi," she replied lightly.
"High?" Jonas thought. "Was this the way they say hello here. He felt strange not knowing and he felt stupid about asking.
"How old are you, Jonas?" Rosemary asked.
"I'm a twelve now, but in December age won't matter anymore," he said casually.
"This is December. Why doesn't age matter any more?" she asked skeptically. She thought that this new boy was very weird.
"Okay," Larissa interrupted, "I think we've all had enough excitement for one night. How about taking him upstairs to the guest room?"
Up-Stares? Guest Room? High? He felt like an animal. Strange and stupid. Precision of language failed him. No matter how precise his language was theirs was much more.
Following them he came to what resembled a man-made hill. It was made of platforms each slightly higher that the one before it. These must be Up- Stares. Because of course you had to look up at them. He felt a little smarter.
As he climbed up he thought about the things he once knew. But it was almost all gone. All he had now were wisp of the memories of the community. They reached more flat floor, and led him down a hallway. Larissa pushed open a door to show him what they called the "guest room". He realized that it was a sleep room. Lavishly furnished, yes, but still a sleep room.
"Good night, Jonas," Rosemary said. "There are some sleep clothes in the first drawer of the closet."
"Thank you," he replied, "for everything."
"Don't mention it," Larissa said. "Good night, honey."
"Oh," he thought. But they were already out the door. It was too late to apologize. He must have said something rude. And he hated being rude.
He went to the closet and to his delight found it full of clothes. Red clothes, blue clothes, yellow clothes, green clothes, in any kind of outfit he could have dreamed of. (Not to mention a few he never imagined.) He opened the first drawer and found a pair of pants. They were fuzzy and had blue strips on the white material. When he lifted it he found a matching shirt.
Once asleep Jonas had the most bizarre dreams. Events he knew happened long ago, long ago to this family he was living with, kept flash through his mind. Birthdays, holidays, some days were just normal. But the point was he was remembering them. it was as if he were there. With the family. His family. It was all so real.
Jonas woke up to sunlight pouring through a window in what he now knew was a "guest room". Jonas walked to the closet and found a pair of blue pants made of a heavy material. He also chose a red tunic, but unlike the tunics he owned in the Before, this one did not open in the front of the back. Rather it slid over ones shoulders. Its material was unusually soft.
He walked down the hall to the room which Gabe was sleeping in. It just occurred to him that Gabe slept all night by himself. In a crib on the side of Gabe was a baby boy much younger than Gabe.
Jonas felt a tug on his pants. It was a blond-haired little boy, who may have been five years old.
"Jonas?" he asked.
"Yes, who are you?" Jonas asked with a smile.
"Caleb," he answered. "Granny told me to call you to breakfast."
Breakfast? But before Jonas had a chance to ask Caleb took his hand and led him down the Up-Stares into the dining room.
There the large family sat and ate and laughed. At that table, though not by monitory ritual, Jonas shared his feelings over the years. They were no longer shallow emotions, but true feelings. The feeling of pride he had when he won the State Speech Rally for his speech on World War II. The feeling of joy when he had his first birthday party (which was now celebrated on Christmas, the day he and Gabe arrived at the home). He felt a great loss and pain wrenched his heart when Larissa, the only grandparent he had ever know, died. And he had a feeling of true love and unlimited devotion when he married the beautiful, red-haired girl next door, Fiona. Funny, the way her name always sounded so familiar to him.
By the way DISCLAIMER: I did not right "The Giver" nor do I own the copyrights. I did this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of my readers. I am not profiting monetarily from this fan fiction.
Then as if by machine both sled and snow stopped. Jonas clutched Gabriel closer to him. He could plainly see the dwelling, the lights, and hear the music. The door suddenly burst open and people began to walk outside.
Children lay on the ground and moved their arms and legs back and forth. Adults and Elders talked and laughed, to Jonas's amazement often tapping or touching each other.
And even with all the differences there was a strange similarity. Something seemed to remind him of something Before. Something before memories and colors and pain. Something he knew.
Frantically he waved his arms and shouted, as he had memories of people on desert islands doing. The people looked up. The young children stopped their play. Three adults, all males, came running. They picked hum up and carried him inside the house.
Once inside they placed him on a sofa near the fireplace. An elderly female came and started rubbing his feet. At first all that he felt was the pressure of her hands, but with time he felt pain. Excruciating pain. Sharp flashes of pain. Deep, gut-wrenching pain.
"Well, we saved your feet." She replied cheerfully as she stopped rubbing. "What's your name, honey?"
"Jonas," he replied trying not to mumble although it was hard to speak clearly.
"What's the baby's?" she asked sweetly.
"Gabriel?!?" Jonas shouted forgetting his pain. "Where's Gabriel?"
"He's ok. Rose has him, she's cleaning him up, making him all comfy okay?" There was something about the way she said comfy that reminded him of Before, but what it was he couldn't say.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Larissa, but everybody here calls me granny, so you can too. Would you mind telling me what a boy and a baby are doing out in a snow storm. It's a long trip here to the next town. Where did you come from anyway?"
"Larissa?" Jonas thought. That name sounded familiar, but it was a name from Before and Before was very blurry. "My family unit and I live in the community. I ran away with Gabriel because they were going to kill him. I had to set everyone free. I can't remember much more."
"That's okay, honey," she said softly. "What community was that again?"
Jonas laughed. It never had occurred to him to name the community. He wasn't sure it had a name. It had always been The Community.
Before he could explain his laughter a young female about Jonas's age walked in holding Gabe. She laughed about cooed at him, her laughter made Jonas smile. It made him feel warm and safe.
"Jonas, this is Rosemary. Rosemary, this is Jonas." Larissa said cheerily.
"Hello," he said bowing a little in greeting.
"Hi," she replied lightly.
"High?" Jonas thought. "Was this the way they say hello here. He felt strange not knowing and he felt stupid about asking.
"How old are you, Jonas?" Rosemary asked.
"I'm a twelve now, but in December age won't matter anymore," he said casually.
"This is December. Why doesn't age matter any more?" she asked skeptically. She thought that this new boy was very weird.
"Okay," Larissa interrupted, "I think we've all had enough excitement for one night. How about taking him upstairs to the guest room?"
Up-Stares? Guest Room? High? He felt like an animal. Strange and stupid. Precision of language failed him. No matter how precise his language was theirs was much more.
Following them he came to what resembled a man-made hill. It was made of platforms each slightly higher that the one before it. These must be Up- Stares. Because of course you had to look up at them. He felt a little smarter.
As he climbed up he thought about the things he once knew. But it was almost all gone. All he had now were wisp of the memories of the community. They reached more flat floor, and led him down a hallway. Larissa pushed open a door to show him what they called the "guest room". He realized that it was a sleep room. Lavishly furnished, yes, but still a sleep room.
"Good night, Jonas," Rosemary said. "There are some sleep clothes in the first drawer of the closet."
"Thank you," he replied, "for everything."
"Don't mention it," Larissa said. "Good night, honey."
"Oh," he thought. But they were already out the door. It was too late to apologize. He must have said something rude. And he hated being rude.
He went to the closet and to his delight found it full of clothes. Red clothes, blue clothes, yellow clothes, green clothes, in any kind of outfit he could have dreamed of. (Not to mention a few he never imagined.) He opened the first drawer and found a pair of pants. They were fuzzy and had blue strips on the white material. When he lifted it he found a matching shirt.
Once asleep Jonas had the most bizarre dreams. Events he knew happened long ago, long ago to this family he was living with, kept flash through his mind. Birthdays, holidays, some days were just normal. But the point was he was remembering them. it was as if he were there. With the family. His family. It was all so real.
Jonas woke up to sunlight pouring through a window in what he now knew was a "guest room". Jonas walked to the closet and found a pair of blue pants made of a heavy material. He also chose a red tunic, but unlike the tunics he owned in the Before, this one did not open in the front of the back. Rather it slid over ones shoulders. Its material was unusually soft.
He walked down the hall to the room which Gabe was sleeping in. It just occurred to him that Gabe slept all night by himself. In a crib on the side of Gabe was a baby boy much younger than Gabe.
Jonas felt a tug on his pants. It was a blond-haired little boy, who may have been five years old.
"Jonas?" he asked.
"Yes, who are you?" Jonas asked with a smile.
"Caleb," he answered. "Granny told me to call you to breakfast."
Breakfast? But before Jonas had a chance to ask Caleb took his hand and led him down the Up-Stares into the dining room.
There the large family sat and ate and laughed. At that table, though not by monitory ritual, Jonas shared his feelings over the years. They were no longer shallow emotions, but true feelings. The feeling of pride he had when he won the State Speech Rally for his speech on World War II. The feeling of joy when he had his first birthday party (which was now celebrated on Christmas, the day he and Gabe arrived at the home). He felt a great loss and pain wrenched his heart when Larissa, the only grandparent he had ever know, died. And he had a feeling of true love and unlimited devotion when he married the beautiful, red-haired girl next door, Fiona. Funny, the way her name always sounded so familiar to him.