Disclaimer: "The Giver" belongs to Lois Lowry.

Author's Note: It's kind of sad that I've been on FF for over a year, and this is only my second post. And even then, this was a school assignment. Ah, well, I'm actually pretty proud of it! Please tell me what you think!

Epilogue

Jonas awoke to the sound of birds singing. Singing. Music. The simple pleasure of that peaceful trilling still awed him. He lay in his cot for a moment, just listening to them, basking in the faint glow of the morning sunshine streaming through his window.

Jonas swung his legs over the edge of the cot and padded over to the large mahogany trunk beneath the window. He rifled through the contents, carefully choosing the color and style of his clothing. He felt a small burst of pride at being able to make his own decisions, no matter how simple.

The soft, warn material of his favorite blue jeans brushed against Jonas's skin as he pulled them on. He stifled a yawn and shuffled out of the bright, sun-filled room, down the short hallway, into the kitchen where he was greeted by the mouth-watering scent of blueberry pancakes and warm maple syrup.

Mrs. Marlow was already at the table feeding Gabe. The small child squirmed in his highchair, emitted a loud giggle, and promptly chucked a tiny piece of pancake at Mr. Marlow. The man rolled his eyes good –naturedly and made zooming noises while steering the bit of food into Gabe's laughing mouth.

Jonas smiled faintly with amusement. He had first woken up in the kindly couple's house about two months ago, wrapped in blankets like a cocoon and with three strangers watching him hesitantly. At first he had been wary, but the man had explained how their thirteen year-old daughter, Abigail, had been out plowing the walkway and had apparently found him and Gabriel lying freezing and unconscious in a sled at the bottom the hill in front of their house.

Abigail had rushed to tell her parents, and together they had carried the limp bodies inside and warmed them up.

Over the course of a few days, Jonas had become more comfortable with the family, and began to tell them his story. Amazingly, they believed him. The people in their village already knew about the communities that had resorted to Sameness, but preferred to keep to their own business. Mrs. Marlow had shrugged.

"If they want to forget about feelings, they can go right ahead," she said. "It's not our problem." And Jonas had inquired no further on the subject.

The couple had told him them that they enjoyed him and Gabe's company, and were allowed to stay for as long as they liked, since they had nowhere else to go. They had even been given their very own room to share.

Jonas became closer with Abigail, and the two would sit outside and talk for hours about anything and everything. Abigail would ask questions about what it was like growing up in the community, her emerald eyes alight with curiosity, and Jonas would inquire about her own childhood with just as much fervor. For some reason, Jonas felt happy whenever he was around her.

For five days out of the week, Jonas attended school with her. With only wisps of the memories to refer back to, Jonas thought it strange that children still attended school until they were almost nineteen, and then they could choose their own profession.

One evening, Abigail and he had stayed up later than usual talking, and Abigail had giggled when her stomach made a loud gurgling sound. Following her to the kitchen for a midnight snack, Jonas had stopped in front of the entranceway to the living room, baffled. Mr. and Mrs. Marlow had just whispered goodnight to each other, embraced, and then briefly touched their lips to the other's.

Jonas had looked curiously at Abigail.

"Why did they do that?" he asked, still puzzled.

"Oh, that? You mean the kiss?" she replied. "It's something people do if they love or have feelings for each other. Some of my friends have even done it before. Oh, I wonder who my first kiss will be with!" she gushed, giving a sideways glance to Jonas.

Jonas had been too deep in thought to notice, though. He supposed he could understand why people did this kissing. It did look rather enjoyable…

Jonas helped himself to some pancakes and sat down next to Abigail.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Marlow. Abigail." He waved and made a silly face at Gabe.

"Good morning, Jonas," said Mrs. Marlow. "Did you sleep well?"

Jonas nodded. "I did, thank you."

"Mornin'!" Abigail said cheerfully through a mouthful of pancake. "And for the ten millionth time, call me Abby," she scolded playfully. "You're always so formal."

"Okay, Abigail," he teased.

She snorted. "Anyway," she cast a meaningful glance at Jonas, "do you even remember what today is?"

Jonas wracked his brain. "Err…Tuesday?"

Abigail sighed, and her fork clattered against her plate. "It's my birthday! Duh!"

Oh! Jonas had completely forgotten! Everyone here celebrated their birthdays on a different day, on the actual day they were born. He longed to have the Giver's memories back; it would be so much easier adjusting if he did. By now, though, they were scattered all throughout the community. He could imagine the pandemonium there, and hoped the Giver was able to help the people through it.

"Oh, yes. Well, I wish you a wonderful Day of Birth," he said solemnly.

She smiled. "Thanks, though a simple 'Happy Birthday' would have sufficed."

Later that evening, after school had finished and their bellies were full of dinner and birthday cake, Jonas and Abigail strolled down the path and settled down on a boulder on top of a hill overlooking the village. The sun was just setting, and the snow was reflecting the brilliant pink and orange hues of the painted sky.

They leaned into one another for warmth, and sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink down below the mountains in the distance.

Sitting there with Abigail, Jonas came to a realization. In this world, he didn't need the Giver's memories. Here, he could create new ones. Of warmth, of pain, of family, of happiness.

Of love.

Abigail broke the silence. "So, what about my birthday present?" she asked.

Jonas looked down at her. "Happy birthday, Abby," he whispered. Then, he leaned down and kissed her.