It began as any other normal day. I awoke to my alarm at 7:30 A.M. I went through my morning routine of brushing my teeth and hair, washing my face, and putting on my clothes for the day. I had my navy blue tennis dress laid on my Papasan chair because today was the highly anticipated 3rd round of State Finals for tennis. My team was playing another local high school who I knew nothing about since we had never played them during the regular season. After saying good bye to my little sister and father, my mom dropped me off and wished me luck on my match, because she wasn’t going to be able to come. I distinctly remember the last words my sister, Maya, uttered to me as I ran out the door, “good luck, Paigey.”

After unpacking my backpack, I meet up with my friend and tennis partner, Abbey, because today we found out the results of the student council elections. I had run for treasurer, and Abbey had run for Vice President. I must admit I wasn’t as nervous as she was to hear the results. The girl I was running against hadn’t even been in student council last year, and I had worked diligently all year putting together bake sales and carwashes, attending meetings, and assisting other officers who hadn’t been fulfilling their responsibilities. When I found out I lost I was outraged! I felt like all my hard work was for nothing. My emotions quickly went from rage to disappointment. I felt betrayed thinking of friends and classmates who had voted for a person who hadn’t even been in student council last year.

After venting about the student council situation to some friends it was time to play my tennis match. I had some pre-game jitters before stepping onto the court. During the match nothing went well. My shots were off, my volleys sailed past the baseline, and my serve was inconsistent. We lost the match and I felt the team’s loss on my shoulders. After the match, my team went out for a celebratory lunch over our amazing season, but the loss was still lingering in the air.

That evening after dinner I sat on the couch exhausted from my emotional roller coaster of a day when I became aware of a knock at the front door. My parents were preparing to take me out for frozen yogurt and my sister was riding her bike outside. My mom answered the door and began screaming to call 911. When I went outside I saw my little sister lying in the cul-de-sac not moving, but conscious. I thought she had just fallen and maybe broken a bone or twisted her ankle. Boy was I wrong! As I approached, I noticed a huge bump protruding out of her thigh. It took my brain a few minutes to process what I was seeing. The bike handle was wedged in my sister’s thigh. The bike handle had impaled her! I began to panic. “Oh my god, Oh my god,” was all that I was thinking. She was for sure going to die because I knew that one of the biggest arteries in your body is in your thigh. My stomach was doing summersaults and I was hysterically crying. My sister was the only sibling I had. I couldn’t fathom being an only child. I didn’t know what to do with myself. The last words that she had spoken to me this morning were repeating in my head. “Good luck Paigey,” she had said in her sweet childish voice with a huge grin on her face. All the times we had spent together flashed before my eyes. The trip to Spain we had taken that summer. The walk we had taken together two days before. The poem she had written about me being her role model. All the instances I had bullied her. I would never forgive myself for all the times I had been peremptory and cantankerous towards her. The ambulance arrived 15 minutes later and took her to the hospital. I waited anxiously in the lobby for an update on how my sister was doing. I was terrified that the doctor was going to come out and tell us that she had passed away. When a doctor finally emerged in blue scrubs, I was on the brink of passing out. “Please don’t be dead, Please don’t be dead,” were the words I was continuously saying in my head. He explained that the handle was resting on her bone and “kissing” the artery, but she was really lucky and going to make a full recovery. No amputation. No nerve damage. No artery puncture. She would be able to walk again with only a scar to show for this traumatic accident.

That day I learned, in retrospect, the election and tennis match weren’t nearly as important as my sister. In the scope of life, there are only a few precious things that count. Don’t take the people and special moments you share for granted because you never know which moment is going to be the last one. “Good luck, Paigey,” could have been the last words my sister ever said to me.