His mother wept, cried, begged him not to go outside. He was too young to die. But, he insisted, saying, he had to do this for his children even if it meant he may never see that day. Enough was enough. There were mass protests outside all calling for freedom. 

No longer will you put your foot on my throat without me screaming. This land is mine more than it is yours. And he walked into the sunlight as his mom fell to the ground. 

They both knew he might not ever come back. And to him dying would be a lighter pain then the grief he just caused his mom. But, he had to do this, for his mom and for his future children even if that day would never come. 

Sorry, mom.

Viva viva intifada!