I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a freezing cold wet day in the winter of 1975. I remember the right moment, hiding behind a fragile mud wall, peeking  into the alley  near the frozen stream. That was a long time ago ,but it's wrong what they say about the past, I,ve learned, about how you can bury it, because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I,ve been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years. One day in summer, my friend, Rahim Khan called from Pakistan. He asked me to come to see him. Standing in the kitchen with the receiver to my ear, I knew it wasn't just Rahim Khan on the line. It was my past of unatoned sins   After I hung up, I went for a walk along Spreckels Lane on the northern edge of Golden Gate Park. The early afternoon sun sparkled on the water where dozens of small boats sailed, driven by a gentle breeze. Then I glanced up and saw a pair of kites with long blue tails, soaring in the sky. They danced high above the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmill, floating side by side like a pair of eyes looking down on San Francisco, the city I now call home. And suddenly Hassan5S voice whispered in my head: For you, a thousand times over. Hassan the hare-lipped kite runner. I sat on a park bench near a willow tree. I thought about something Rahim Khan said just before he hung up, almost as an after thought. There is a way to be good again. I looked up at those twin kites. I thought about Hassan. Thought about Baba. AU. Kabul. I thought of the life I had lived until the winter of 1975 came along and changed everything. And made me what I am today. After 1975,the hero of the story spent his life  _  .
with happiness with regret in peace in danger
Question: I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a freezing cold wet day in the winter of 1975. I remember the right moment, hiding behind a fragile mud wall, peeking  into the alley  near the frozen stream. That was a long time ago ,but it's wrong what they say about the past, I,ve learned, about how you can bury it, because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I,ve been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years. One day in summer, my friend, Rahim Khan called from Pakistan. He asked me to come to see him. Standing in the kitchen with the receiver to my ear, I knew it wasn't just Rahim Khan on the line. It was my past of unatoned sins   After I hung up, I went for a walk along Spreckels Lane on the northern edge of Golden Gate Park. The early afternoon sun sparkled on the water where dozens of small boats sailed, driven by a gentle breeze. Then I glanced up and saw a pair of kites with long blue tails, soaring in the sky. They danced high above the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmill, floating side by side like a pair of eyes looking down on San Francisco, the city I now call home. And suddenly Hassan5S voice whispered in my head: For you, a thousand times over. Hassan the hare-lipped kite runner. I sat on a park bench near a willow tree. I thought about something Rahim Khan said just before he hung up, almost as an after thought. There is a way to be good again. I looked up at those twin kites. I thought about Hassan. Thought about Baba. AU. Kabul. I thought of the life I had lived until the winter of 1975 came along and changed everything. And made me what I am today. After 1975,the hero of the story spent his life  _  .
A. with happiness
B. with regret
C. in peace
D. in danger
Answer: