I was born to die. My parents made sure I knew this at a young age, so I was ready. We always celebrated death. We believe if you die, you get to live a second life in paradise. I've accepted it. My sister was born with a heart problem. The doctors said they could find warning signs before it happened, but they couldn't find someone close enough to her age to have a transplant when her heart stopped working. So my parents made me. Every day they hoped I wouldn't be as bad as she is, and I'd be healthy enough. Every day they thank God I was. You might be worried about the morals of this situation, but I'm not. I have the heart problem too, but it's not nearly as bad. So, if I didn't give up my heart for my sister, who I love dearly, we would both die eventually. If I give up my heart, she'll be able to live long enough to get a healthier heart, and only one child will die. Besides, my parents let me do whatever I'd like, as long as I don't get hurt. I have the freedom to do basically anything.