Forgiveness: A Short Story

   It all happened so fast.

   It was windy that night. Windy and warm and pleasantly cloudy. The perfect day for a bike ride.

   It happened so fast...

   One minute, I was sure the road was clear. I checked, both ways, twice. Like we're taught to do. Like I'm supposed to.

   If I had checked harder, a third time...

   But he just appeared; pedaled right in front of me. There was hardly a bump. The worst part was the sound. I could hear his bike being churned by my tires, the twisted metal scraping the asphalt as the rider crashed to the ground.

   You deserve to have that sound haunt you for the rest of your life...

   I slammed on the brakes, of course. I phone 911. I tried to help him. I did everything I was supposed to. I checked for a pulse. He was alive. I couldn't pull him out to do CPR. I had to leave him under the car in a pool of his own blood.

   It should have been my blood...

   The paramedics and the police arrived. I was questioned. I watched as they pulled him out from under my truck. They began to try and resuscitate him immediately. They called in a helicopter to rush him to the hospital. And I could do nothing but watch.

   It should have been me in that chopper, broken and barely clinging to life...

   I told the police I didn't know the man. That was true. But I felt that he wasn't a total stranger; I had just watched him nearly die, after all. I got a lawyer. The man died just before they got to the hospital, she told me. She said that his wife and his two little daughters were there waiting for him. And they were met with a mangled corpse.

   Those girls deserve their revenge, their closure. A life for a life...

   I'm set to go to court next month. His wife refused to press charges, but his parents weren't so forgiving.

   Forgiveness...

   How could I ever be forgiven? For God's sake, I killed a man! I saw him there, right below my tires. Bloody and battered and dying. And his children and wife saw him, bloody and battered and dead.

   Soon, I'll be bloody and battered and dead, and my mind will be at peace...

   How selfish of me to think of myself in this moment. I'm a terrible person. Am I really that selfish, that blind to the world? I caused so much suffering, and I'm worried about my own mind being at peace?

   Peace... maybe the world can have some when I'm gone...

   So here I am, on the edge of a cliff, no one in sight. A river rushes somewhere below, so far down that I can't even hear it. The wind whips through my hair, just like that day, that day...

   I don't know what happened. I think I was shaking; my vision went blurry, then completely dark. All I could hear was the wind, and something else... a voice... maybe sirens...

   And I woke up in the hospital, with an IV in my arm and a heart monitor by my head. The doctor explained that some girl had seen me about to jump, and she'd called 911. So many calls, so many emergencies... how selfish of me to waste one of their lines with my crisis. Another person could be dead because my call wasted precious time.

   I had to stay in the psych ward overnight, and for the next several nights. God, I hope I never have to go back there. That place was full of screaming and crying and being ignored by those who were supposed to be helping us.

   After I left, I got a therapist. My court case was delayed due to my "mental episode." I liked talking to my therapist. She was nice, and she just let me talk; and she listened. She asked questions, but she didn't pry. She helped me understand a few very, very important things;

   One, I'm not selfish for feeling distressed over this whole situation. I'm allowed to be worried about myself and my own issues. Empathy is by no means bad, but I can't let myself invalidate my own emotions.

   Two, it wasn't my fault. It was an accident. A horrible, terrible, awful freak accident. It was late at night. I had my lights on. I wasn't drinking or drunk or high. I wasn't distracted. It was just an unfortunate accident.

   Three, I need to forgive myself.

   And I've been working on it. The voices in my head aren't so strong anymore. I don't feel like I need to jump off a cliff to be happy or at peace anymore. My life is going fine. I'm going to court in a few weeks, but whatever happens, I'll be alright. I won't let myself slip. I won't forget that I'm a person, that I have a purpose. I won't. I can't.

   I forgive myself.