Everything to Nothing

I am privileged. Blessed. My life is cushioned with a comfortable home, family vacations in tropical countries, and numerous extracurricular activities. But growing up, I never valued the possessions and experiences that I was blessed with. I took them for granted and assumed that I would always have everything. My attitude was indifferent; I thought, “I’ll always be living a nice life.” However, a single tragedy that I witnessed revealed to me that I might not always be living a nice life: in fact, I might not always be living.

In my sophomore year of high school, my fellow student, “Joseph,” died literally at my feet. It was a crisp October morning, and I was walking to school through the crisp autumn air. Bikers whizzed by me in the lane next to the sidewalk, each one hurrying to arrive at school on time. As I nodded softly to the music pulsing through my headphones, a large garbage truck slowly crawled by, towing some sort of trailer.

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Its loud huffing bothered me, and I turned up my music. But suddenly, the music in my ears went silent as I watched a tragedy unfold right in front of me.

Joseph, riding a royal blue bike, pedaled furiously to pass the gigantic garbage truck. As he passed its trailer, the trailer’s wheels skittered over a bump in the road, causing the huge metal vehicle to swerve wildly. The edge of the trailer smashed into Joseph, sending him over the handlebars of his bike and face-first into the dark gray concrete. I heard myself gasp as I sprinted towards him. Other drivers were pulling to the sides of the road and jumping out of their cars, sprinting towards the bloody and motionless boy. As I reached the scene, I felt my stomach churn. Joseph lay in the gutter, inches from my black laced sneakers. I crumpled to the ground.

The aftermath of the accident passed in a blur of ambulance sirens, sobbing parents, and a black body bag that stays burned in my mind. Finally, when Joseph’s body had been taken away, a police officer sent me on to school. However, I instead headed home, still in shock. I had seen my fellow student die. My fellow student who would have taken the SAT and applied for college and gone on to pursue a career, just as I would. Every experience that I would have was an experience that he had lost the chance to have. And he could have been me. I was only a yard away from the accident; he could have been me. I could have lost my family, my future, my life. If my fellow student could die, I could to.

Following Joseph’s death, I learned to appreciate everyone I knew and everything I had. I began documenting my trips and experiences with photographs and writing. I wrote thank-you cards and little notes for my friends. I spent time with my family. I savored each meal. I put my energy into studying and doing well in school, because I had the chance to. It would be cruel of me to view life with the indifferent attitude that I once had; at least I had a life, and so I should value it. Although Joseph’s death was a heartbreaking tragedy that never should have happened, his death taught me the value of life, and for that I am grateful.