I guess that nothing could ever redeem me from this unbearable guilt, the fact that I had hurt a person who was, just a minute ago, riding happily on his motorbike. A compound of RM300 and a broken front bumper is a price too little to pay for what I had done. And my drops of tears which rained from my eyes outside the clinic, at the police station, in front of Kelly and my pastor in these times of guilt.
From this episode, I learnt that driving recklessly is not at all a choice, much less an obligation to protect myself, friends and those other road-users. Looking down at those hurt hands and silent eyes, I felt myself determined more than ever to never go down this road again.