I had just crossed Mills Street kitty-corner from the bike path to Spring Street Sunday night when I heard a sickening thud and screech behind me, then a few seconds later a terrifying scream. I turned around, and by the time I ran over to see what had happened, a car had already dragged a kid about a half a block, and he was motionless under a red sedan. From the layout of the scene, it looked as if the kid had been knocked off his bike by one car and then run over and dragged in the opposite direction by another. It all happened in a single moment.

People poured out of their houses on cell phones calling 911. Someone at the scene said he was breathing, and the rescue squad arrived promptly and took him away in an ambulance. It appears he will be OK.

Whenever people come face-to-face with the possibility of death, they tend to wax poetic about their own mortality and the transience of life. Watching someone die from a protracted illness is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, but watching the instance of such a life-altering event is momentous. It is an image that will be forever burned in my memory. Not just the image of the streak of blood down the pavement, but the sound as well, will stay with me.

Now, I don't mention all of this to be macabre or cliché, but instead to draw your attention to the first selfish thought that came to my mind: What if that was me? After all, I had crossed the street in the exact same spot seconds before. He was right behind me. Now take a deep breath and think about this one: What if it was you pinned underneath that sedan?

Ah well, no matter. We are college students. We must be invincible. But what if that kid was your brother? Or your best friend? Or your boyfriend? Or the kid in your Chem Lab that nobody ever talks to? I wonder where this kid was coming from. If it had been you, would you be returning from having spent your whole day studying at Wendt Library for an exam? Or would you be returning from yet another night drinking?

There's a reason why he was there on Sunday, and there is a reason why I was there that night, and there's a reason why I'm here now, and — profound thought — there is a reason why you're here now. We've been given another day.

After seeing the accident, I stepped back and realized fully for the first time just how small my fears are. My recent fight with my best friend, my stressful search for an apartment, my hawkish behavior over my GPA and my anxiety over this last slew of tests and papers lost their grip on me in a moment on Sunday night.

If you go to the spot on Mills Street now, you will probably find nothing more than some tire marks. I hope the kid is OK, and I hope the drivers are alright too. Apparently, Madison police say that bike accidents are actually fairly common, and sadly I'm not surprised. To all who are reading this, please look both ways before crossing the street. Drive carefully. Not to sound like a Public Service Announcement, but maybe even wear a helmet when biking. This morning on my run, I even subconsciously crossed the street at the crosswalk, instead of darting around traffic like usual.

Most of all, please consider carefully where your priorities are. Remember, we are but moments here, so make it count. Don't worry. Worrying will not add a second to your life. As the semester winds down, look forward to each day with hope, even the days of your final exams and big job interviews. Yes, it is trite to say, but it could have been me slammed by those cars, if I had been off by just a few seconds. Or it could have been you; you just never know.

Catherine Skroch is a UW student and Badger Herald photographer.