Disclaimer: I was near tears at the end. I probably would've written The Giver differently if it was mine.

"Everybody here wanted something more."

-Welcome to New York, by Taylor Swift

++LittleTown++

Poor little Cerys.

Cerys. Such a beautiful little girl- the younger sister of Caleb. The first Caleb.

It was kare-is, the pronouncement. Unknown to all, there were times when people would not know how to say the name.

The Sameness changed that. It made it easier for those names.

Poor little Cerys. She was a Three when her brother was lost. She witnessed Caleb's fall. They only got to Cerys just before she drowned, too.

Poor little Cerys.

And they replaced her Caleb when she was a Six. It had taken her a little while to lessen her grief- small bits stayed, though.

Poor little Cerys.

Jonas believed that no one else had dealt with grief.

Poor little Cerys.

She became a Seven, that year. Three years older than Caleb was, and would ever become.

Poor little Cerys.

The planes started to fly, and strange things started to happen.

Poor little Cerys.

Her light eyes brought the events in full force.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Cerys.

Those with light eyes- they saw more.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Katherine.

Poor little light eyes.

The lights, the dying pair.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little light eyes.

Poor little Gabe.

Cerys was the only one that screamed and cried. She had done the same when Caleb died.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Caleb.

When they found them, Cerys tried her hardest to help, the small Seven.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Gabe.

Poor little. Jonas.

The Giver tried to help.

Poor little Cerys.

She grew up in a better world, burdened by the deaths she had seen- first hand.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Caleb.

Poor little Gabe.

Poor little Jonas.

Poor little light eyes.

Poor little town.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Cerys.

Poor little Cerys.

Carry on, my poor little Cerys.

Poor little Cerys.