La semana pasada publiqué la cuarta parte de este relato. Si quieres ponerte al día con la historia, puedes leerla acá.

«The Giver, One Year Later. Part 4» Victoria Motta

The video was not from that day, but it was not an old video. Asher did not recognize the person who was there, it was a girl, she was alone next to a baby who did not stop crying. The girl approached a table with a needle and a bottle with a liquid in it.

The baby was still crying and didn’t seem to want to stop. The girl ignored the baby as she made the syringe suck that clear river water-like liquid until it was full. “All right baby, I need you to relax, you can’t move.”

Asher started to feel an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, he didn’t see anything good in that. The girl approached the baby with the needle in her hand and carefully held his head, “don’t move baby.” The boy didn’t want to see that.

He wanted to close his eyes, but something prevented him, that curiosity that he hated so much sometimes, curiosity did not let him look away, he could not help but feel the tension in his stomach when the girl brought the needle closer to the baby’s head. He was going to vomit.

Asher watched as the girl injected the baby with that substance. It was simply disgusting, terrifying, horrible. Asher watched as the girl left the baby lying down and went to leave the syringe on a table and then leave.

Asher made the mistake of having at least a little trust in the community but watching the baby slowly stop moving made his heart broke, he was dead. The screen went dark.

Asher was paralyzed, his heart was beating fast. Would they do that to him? Asher felt the food go back into his mouth, and he vomited.

It was so disgusting, so sad, and no one seemed to care. How could a person do something like that? Nobody felt anything, that was disgusting. The screen was off, so Asher couldn’t see anything, and he didn’t want to see anything either.

The Giver told him that it was better to leave, to rest a little, maybe that would calm him down a little. But it was not true, nothing could calm him down, he was in a community full of murderers, murderers who could not see that they were doing something wrong.

The boy apologized and left quickly, but it was a mistake. Asher felt disgusted, at himself and everyone else. If he hadn’t received the memories of The Giver, maybe he would see himself doing the same thing, killing an innocent baby just for crying too much.

Either because he was small, or just because he had a twin brother. Or well, Asher was very hesitant to do that with the job he had been given, but he still felt sorry for a poor baby to be mercilessly killed.

But they also killed people like him…. In short, if you broke three rules you died. There was nothing like living in another community, there was only death, death for the babies, death for people like him… and death for the Elders.


Victoria Motta

Mi nombre es Victoria Motta, soy una estudiante de tercero básico y tengo 15 años. Desde que tenía 13 o 14 años, empecé a escribir, y es algo que disfruto mucho hacer. La mayor parte del tiempo, cuando estoy en casa, me la paso escribiendo. La ficción es lo que más me llama la atención, ya que siento que es algo que ayuda mucho con la imaginación y te hace tomar perspectivas diferentes, por más imposibles que parezcan.
Artículos de la autora