Fear and regret of an accident

Our car hit a stray dog last night. We couldn’t stop because the dog ran out so fast that stopping would mean the car behind us would slam into ours. After the accident I couldn’t dare to ask what had happened.
As is the norm here, no one stops for a dog. People sometimes don’t even stop for people for fear of getting beaten up by onlookers.
I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. But I feel sick thinking about it now. I feel like I have to know what happened. And whether the answer is that it died or it lived, either ways I won’t feel better. I just feel this horrible need to know what happened.
This post has no ending. It’s a way of me to tell someone, anyone how I’m feeling now because talking about it makes me sick.

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