Hearts

       The world was once normal, but not anymore.

       Never again.

       Not since people started to cut others open just for their heart. The thing that makes us work.  They pay big money for hearts, that's why my parents do it. Now it's my turn to start hunting hearts.

        It's not like I am doing a crime we get paid by the government, but it doesn't feel right. It's like a man steal heart world. It's like you are taking a soul from angel, or wings from a bird. It's not right.

       I place my own hand on my heart. I feel it pounding harder then ever as I walk home, knowing today will be my last day before I am turned a killer. I said goodbye, but now it is time to leave. 

      I look around at the changing leaves and the forever blue sky, before I leave and can never go back. The birds chirp loudly and some rabbits hop across the street. I see my faithfully white house that will always stay white, with pink and blue flowers all around it. 

       I walk up to my apple tree, that I planted when I was four with my parent, and look to see if there are any apples. I see a plump one right at the top. I set my backpack on the ground and start to climb. I have been climbing this tree since I saw the first ripe apple, and this will be the last.