Fictional Story Written On Giver

"Come on, what are you waiting for," the voice boomed in my head as I watched the maintenance vehicle go by. "Coming," I murmured feeling embarrassed and out of place. Lately I had questioned parts of our community wondering why they had to be that way. Noticing my best friend Ryan still looking at me I remembered the customary response. "I apologize for making you wait," I sullenly said. "I accept your apology," he replied …

…was my number; I knew it wasn't a mistake. When I was a three I could remember the same thing happening: I was to be Released. I was to be sent out of the community. My name would be sung over and over throughout the day, softer and softer, until it was gone. In the records I would be remembered as number twenty-three. Below that the cause of release would be written- questioning of community.