The Day Everything Changed

Lately, everyone has been opening up about their intimate secrets, and I find myself wishing I had one to share as well. However, what I possess is something much darker. I can be quite vengeful. One of my classmates — a girl who relentlessly bullied and mocked me — really got to me. We had a huge argument one day towards the end of 12th grade. I was so furious that I did something I’ve never confessed to anyone: I cut the brake wire on her bicycle. A day or two later, she was hit by a car, and after that… she just vanished. I never saw her again. Not at graduation, not on social media. It was as if she had disappeared completely. Then yesterday, out of the blue — four years later — I bumped into her. She looked entirely different, more at peace. She shared that she’s been teaching math to school children and working with an NGO that focuses on educating kids in rural areas. She mentioned that she’s finally found happiness. I inquired why she didn’t pursue engineering — she was so brilliant back then. She explained that after the accident, doctors found a rare blood condition. The treatment lasted over a year, and she ended up attending a smaller college. That’s where she discovered her passion for math education. She said that the accident — along with the diagnosis — completely shifted her outlook on life. She realized she wanted to contribute positively. Then she chuckled and said, “It’s kind of amusing — I think you were the catalyst for all the changes. I was riding recklessly that day after our fight. I suppose the universe knew I needed a wake-up call.” She had no clue about my actions. And I didn’t have the courage to admit that I was the reason for her crash. Now I’m left uncertain about how to feel. Should I feel relieved that, in a peculiar way, my actions resulted in something positive — her uncovering her illness and finding her purpose? Or should I feel ashamed for tampering with her bike out of anger, potentially derailing what could have been a different future?