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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/822816-Life-of-Cicada
by qurbl
Rated: E · Fiction · Animal · #822816
What goes through a bug's mind as it splats across the windshield?
Well, here I am, just inches under the ground, waiting for the warm temperatures. I have been waiting seventeen years, my whole life, for this moment. I am a magicicada septendecim of the order Homoptera. They just call me a cicada for short. I used to be a tiny egg in the end of a twig. I climbed out of the slit and dropped to the ground. Then I felt the draw to go further down. So I burrowed downward, almost a whole meter! There I have found my sustenance in the root for the past seventeen years.

I did not always look like I do now. I used to look more like a grub. That was when I was still a baby. A larva, that is what they called me then. Now I am a nymph. I have these claws in front here. I’m not sure what they are for, yet. I used them to climb back up here, softening the dirt on the way with my saliva, but I feel there is a greater purpose for them.

There are quite a lot of us, and we are all waiting here at the same time. I guess when someone gets a good idea, everyone else just has to follow suit. A few of my peers have already climbed out to the surface. They must be crazy! It was way too cold then. Now it is warming up. In fact, I think I’m going to climb out right now. I can tell I’m getting closer. There it is! I can see how bright the world is above ground. Wow.

Ugh. I feel… uncomfortable. I think I’m going to move closer to that tree over there. Here it is. I just need to… get … out. This is what these claws are for. I can use them to hold on to … this… tree. I have to get out of … this… ung… shell. Ahh… It cracked. Now I’m climbing out. This is hard work. But I feel so much better already.

Oh, my. That took a half-hour. But here I am, I’m not brown anymore like I used to be. I’m white. I kind of like it. I also have these wings I never knew about. I need to spread them a bit. Ok. That feels better. Now they are inflating. I can feel my new shell hardening already. Beside me over there is a poor guy who came out too soon. His new exoskeleton hardened before he could get out of his old shell. Poor guy. It must be horribly uncomfortable in there.

I’m already changing colors again. It has only been a few minutes since I emerged, and already my exoskeleton is harder and almost black. My eyes are turning red, too. I’m going to be really scary soon. No one will dare to eat me. I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go ahead and sleep for a little while now.

Morning is so different above ground. I need to climb higher and see more of the world. It is amazing. It is even more beautiful than I remember from seventeen years ago. A whole bunch of fellow cicadas are up here in the tree. Some of them are starting to spread their wings. I think I’ll try my new wings out, too. Here goes. Oh! Oof! Well, that did not work out quite like I had intended. I’m back on the ground now.

Another cicada is here with me. He has been out of the ground for several days now. He invited me to go flying with him later today when I get my wings to work right. Well, I’m practicing now. It has only been a few minutes, and already this whole flying thing makes sense. Weee! This is fun! Here he comes, my flying buddy. He is coming to show me around the neighborhood. Say! He’s really good at flying. We are diving between leaves and over the tops of the bushes. There is a family of littlegirls living near my tree, that’s what my buddy said they were. My buddy wants to see how close we can swoop towards the giant littlegirls. Here goes.

Well that was close. One of the giant littlegirls tried to catch us in its enormous hand. It missed me, but it caught my buddy, poor guy. I can feel him buzzing and buzzing from here, but what am I supposed to do? I guess I’ll have to find someone else to pal around with. That won’t be a problem, there must be hundreds of us living just in my tree, not to mention the trees nearby.

Well I didn’t find another buddy, but I saw the most incredible she-cicada. I think I’m in love. Her eyes were a deep shade of red with black flecks in them. And the veins in those wings! Yowser! I have to see her again. I have to have her.

Hey wait, what is that? My flying buddy from earlier has a string tied around his abdomen. He is trying to fly, but one of those evil littlegirls is holding the other end of the string. She won’t let him get away. These littlegirls are dangerous. There are some that are even bigger, and they have a huge lawn mower. It makes the same noise that some of us make when we want to attract the ladies. But it makes it so much louder than we do. The ladies fly down towards this hideous machine and they get chopped up. It’s an atrocity, that’s what it is. Absolutely Disgusting.

They have other big machines, too. These are even bigger, and they move really fast. The littlegirls call them cars, and I have seen a couple of my brood fly right into them sometimes. When the car stopped moving, I looked at it, and there were the remains of my broodmate on the front of it. There was a grease-spot with two red streaks up the sides. Well, its too bad for those guys.

I’ve been above ground for three days now, and I think I have finally discovered my purpose for being here. I have this enormous draw to meet a nice lady and settle down with a family. I’ve had my eyes on that she-cicada, and I think she might be the one. I’m buzzing now, trying to see if I can catch her attention. It is hard to be heard over the others. Here she comes! Oh. Nevermind… she went for another guy. Oh well. There are other she-cicadas in the brood. In fact, here comes one now. She’s perfect! And she’s mine, all mine.

There’s the little lady depositing her eggs in the tree branch. She has such grace, such skill. And there are hundreds of tiny eggs. The brood certainly won’t die out because of me. Ah, she’s finished. The mother of my children is settling down a little. The poor dear, she looks exhausted. Wait, what is she doing? Her legs are letting go of the tree. She is letting herself slip off. She’s falling! I’d better come down after her. Here she is. She is not moving. She… she… I think that’s it. I guess she’s dead. Maybe she’s just sleeping. Come to think of it, I’m feeling a bit drained, myself. Maybe I’ll try to… just… make it to …the …tree. Or… maybe I’ll just lie right…here for a few …ungh… moments. I’ll … just … rest… awhile…
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/822816-Life-of-Cicada