We had to write another chapter of The Giver by Louis Lowry in my English class. The first sentence is actually the last sentence of the book.
But perhaps it was only an echo.
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Jonas waited, expecting to feel the cold snow beneath him, but instead, only the soft cotton sheets came to greet him. Startled, he opened his eyes.
Above him, the ceiling let loose to the sharp winter sky. Snow silently drifted down around him, but Jonas did not feel the cold. The snowflakes would simply melt on Jonas’s arm with a farewell tickle.
Fascinated with this strange place, Jonas sat up. Strange colors danced around him, colors that he had no word for. Colors that were not in the memories.
Behind him, outside a window, a river called to him. Obediently, Jonas walked towards it. Outside, a light wind crawled across Jonas’s face. He sighed, trying to make sense of this strange place. Then Jonas understood.
He had failed. He had not made it to the Elsewhere that was his destination. He was in a different Elsewhere altogether.
“Jonas!” A small voice called to him. He turned to see Gabe stumbling to him clumsily. Jonas closed the space between them, and picked up the squirming toddler. His heart sank, and he clung to the child.
He had destroyed Gabe’s chance for life. Denied him his freedom. If it weren’t for Jonas, Gabe would have been able to live a peaceful life in the community. No, Jonas stopped himself. Gabe would have been released in the community. Jonas remembered now, he had left early, and unscheduled to save Gabe’s life.
He had left the Giver unaware of his departure. Jonas wondered if the community had been able to cope with the memories that he left them. He wondered if the Giver was able to put the community back in order.
Almost on cue, a voice called to him, “Jonas,” It called, “Jonas, over here!” He turned, only to see a figure standing on a snowy hill. Jonas began to walk towards the silhouette, which could now be identified as a man.
The shape gestured to him, urging him to come closer. Jonas was only a few meters away now, but he stopped. He speculated the familiar man as Gabe snuggled closer to Jonas’s phantom warmth. The Giver let out a small chuckle, and closed the space between them.
Gabe whined as he was squished in the firm embrace. “Jonas,” the Giver spoke softly, “Welcome to Elsewhere.”
“Are we where I think we are?” Jonas asked.
The Giver only nodded, hiding the tears in his eyes. “I want you to meet someone.” His voice was barely above a whisper. Jonas followed him as he slowly began to descend the hill.
The Giver brought them to a small cabin that stood among frosted trees. Inside, they stood by a fire. That was when a girl with black hair, and startling blue eyes peered into the room. “Jonas, this is my daughter.” The Giver spoke, “This is my daughter, Rosemary.”
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