Dar

I dream of kisses and touches. Artemis whispers he loves me and I am complete and full of so much happiness. When I wake up, however, I feel awful. The pink walls hurt my head and before I can even realize what is happening, I lean over my bed and feel my stomach turn. I empty the contents of my stomach and wipe my hand with the back of my mouth.

My hands reach out and feel for Artemis, but I find cold sheets. “Artemis,” I call, but there is no answer. Then I wretch again.

I wish for Artemis to come. I think and cry as I writhe in my bed. This illness is worse than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. “I wish I was better,” I croak.

But for the first time in weeks, my wish does not come true.

There is a dull ring from my bedside table. I reach for the phone and answer it as I wipe away wetness from my eyes.

“Hattie? Hi, baby. It’s Momma.”

“Ugh. Hi, Mom.”

“You sound terrible,” she says, “What’s wrong?”

I describe my symptoms and by the end of it, I am sobbing. There is no way that I can get of bed by myself, but I tell my mother that I will go to the hospital. She sounds frightened and tells me to call her when I get to the emergency room. When I hang up, I call out for Artemis again. Silence.

He’s gone.

I call a taxi. My bones ache as I throw a hoodie on and find some shoes. In fifteen minutes, I am climbing in the back of a yellow sedan.

We race to the hospital and I whisper again for the Giver.



Artemis Smith’s real name is Artus Dupont. As he walks up the marble stairs to the tribunal, he wishes he could go back to that name. That was his name before he became a Giver.

And now he must face the repercussions of his actions. Now he has to beg for some form of help. When he was Adele’s Giver, he didn’t have to beg. Some Takers are meant to be Givers and so when Adele’s time came, they were able to continue on in one fluid movement.

He steps into the white light of the court and sees the stern faces of the Leaders. He squints against the white lights.

“Artemis Smith, Giver, what have you done?”

“Leaders, I plead to you all, for the sake of my happiness as a Giver, to reconsider Hattie Hutchinson’s sentence. Please. Make her a Giver. She is kind and generous enough.”

Silence. Artemis feels the tugs of Hattie calling him. It has begun.

“Giver, you ask for the impossible. Your Taker is not destined to be a Giver. She has to go. You have greatly overstepped your boundaries, as you probably already know. This will not be like the case of Adele Fremont.”

Artemis feels his heart drop as the Leaders’ reject his pleas.

“It is settled then. Hattie Patricia Hutchinson will die of leukemia and your new Taker will be assigned to you. Goodbye, Giver.”