LIZZY WARNER
Gargoyle assistant editor
Posted Saturday, Feb. 16, 2008

LAST WEEK I was sure that I was going to die: Everywhere I went I kept seeing bad omens!

After a late-night basketball practice, my mom was waiting for me in the Kenney Gym parking lot. I hopped in the car and we turned out of the parking lot to go home.

The first stoplight we came to was green, but we wanted to turn left so we patiently waited for the car in front of us to find an opportunity to turn.

Meanwhile, it was raining pretty hard, and I was paying attention to the unfortunate pedestrians who were stuck walking back to their dorms in the downpour. My eyes caught a particular man who was making his way across the road we wanted to turn onto.

My mom moved the car up to try to find an opening in the oncoming traffic while the light was still green, since the lady in front of us had just gone. Sure enough, though, as my eyes were following the pedestrian, all of a sudden he popped up in to the air!

The car in front of us had just hit him! I screamed!

"Mom! Oh my god! That guy just got hit!"

Of course she hadn't seen it since she was paying attention to the oncoming cars, but I had definitely seen him roll up on to the front of the car and watched his legs pop up over the windshield.

It took her a little while to react. She quickly found an opening so that she could turn left and pulled over next to the hit pedestrian and the panicking driver of the car.

I was sitting in the passenger's side of the car freaking out and continually asking if I should call 911. My mom just said yes and got out of the car to see if everything was all right (the pedestrian, though clenching himself, kept insisting he was fine and just wanted to go home).

I got on the phone with the police. I had never had to call 911, so I was nervous and not quite sure what to say. They asked me what intersection we were stopped at, and considering that my knowledge of Urbana road names is very limited I squinted through the rain to identify one street sign and then opted for describing the surroundings instead (listing the gas station, used car dealership, and other things that were within my sight).

Fortunately enough, the police were able to find the place I was talking about. Meanwhile, I and my mom, the pedestrian, and the car driver pulled into the car dealership parking lot to get off the road.

An ambulance showed up, and the pedestrian spent most of his time in there, while the young female car driver spoke to the cops (obviously shaken and on the verge of tears).

I decided to wait in the car until the police came and asked me questions.

Since I was the only one who had really witnessed it, they tried to get as much out of me as they could. I recalled what I could, though the crucial things they were looking for — such as, "Was the walk light on?" — I was unable to remember. They took my name, phone number, and other information and said they would be in touch with me.

Not long after that incident, it was early morning, and again, my mom was driving me to take my first ACT class. We were at the corner of a side street and waiting for the opportunity to turn onto Windsor.

I noticed a cute little squirrel playing by the side of the road and noted to my mom that if they domesticated squirrels then I would buy one. Just then, though, the particular squirrel I had been watching decided to scamper across the four lanes of traffic on Windsor.

"Ah! No! Squirrel! Come back!" I hollered … though obviously I knew the squirrel couldn't understand me. I watched it make its way through three lanes of cars until a silver car blazed right over the top of it, and the squirrel went rolling backwards down Windsor.

I decided not to look, but my mom told me that she was not driving me anywhere anymore on account of the fact that the two times she drove me that week, I saw something get hit.

Now for the moral of my stories: I have been fortunate enough not to witness any more accidents for exactly a week now (knock on wood), but I think I have come to the conclusion that these can't just be coincidence.

I'm taking a stand and am deciding to be an extra-cautious driver. Although many people may tell you I'm already the slowest and least aggressive driver they know, you can never be too safe. Better safe than sorry, right?

And hopefully others will join me in my quest for safe driving — I don't want to see any more cute squirrels die!