旺角車禍

A Personal Perspective
The day life changed forever.
It was a typical busy Friday night in bustling Mong Kok, and I found myself innocently strolling along the pavement, lost in the sea of faces, when suddenly—bang!—the screeching of tires and a thunderous crash pierced through the chaotic din, sending shockwaves through my body.
Time seemed to slow down as I witnessed a horrific scene unfolding before my eyes. A speeding minibus had jumped the curb, mowing down pedestrians like bowling pins, leaving a trail of broken bodies and shattered glass in its wake. As the dust settled, the air was thick with the pungent smell of smoke and fear.
In the aftermath of the carnage, I felt a surge of helplessness and desperation. I frantically dialed 999, but the line was jammed. I rushed to the aid of the injured, doing whatever I could to stem the bleeding and comfort the frightened.
Amidst the chaos, I noticed a young girl lying motionless on the sidewalk. Her tiny body was crumpled and unmoving, her face pale and lifeless. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer, so I gently picked her up and cradled her in my arms, whispering words of reassurance as tears streamed down my face.
As the paramedics finally arrived, I handed her over, praying that she would survive. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had failed her, that I should have been able to do more.
In the days that followed, I couldn't get the image of that little girl out of my mind. I kept replaying the events of that night over and over, trying to make sense of the senseless tragedy.
The “旺角車禍” was a life-changing experience for me. It taught me the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing every moment. It also made me realize that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope.
We must never forget the victims of this tragedy and the families who have been left behind. Let their memory inspire us to be kind, compassionate, and vigilant in preventing such senseless violence in the future.