There is no sound in the world more painful than your mother sobbing in her bedroom, a strong and composed woman reduced to sorrow and heartbreak as her cries echo through the war zone that is your home. Hearing and seeing my proud mother cry was probably the most heartaching feeling I've ever, ever, ever experienced in my life. My mother is always so strong, so invincible, that the sound of her sobbing and the sight of her red eyes and quivering hands sent me crumpling to the floor. Despite all our conflict, I always loved my mother and all she did to try to keep my rapidly-crumbling family together. But I think that eventually, she came to accept that you can't rebuild a sand castle after the ocean has raged through, reducing towers and columns to a smear of wet nothingness. So when she looked at me, painful regret in her eyes, "I'm sorry I brought you into this world," I felt as if a bullet had pierced my sternum. Gasping through the pain, I stumbled backwards, slicing my feet on the shards of our broken family. A gurgling noise rose from my throat-- I was choking. Choking. Choking. Couldn't breathe. Finally, words formed, and I croaked: "I'll do you a favor."