Cicada

I don't know when I started or how long I've been walking, but before I knew it, I was engulfed in a sea of people who reminded me of...someone. People of various ages, from toddlers to seniors seemed to gather, all holding a piece of paper in their hands. I looked down at my own, realizing that this whole time, I've been carrying one as well, not knowing when I’d received it. It read:

"You are invited!"

…Huh. Unsure of what I've been invited to, I followed the crowd to a barn. This barn looked like, well, for all intents and purposes, like a barn, but there was a peculiar feeling about it. It seemed to call out to me, like it recognized me...like it's been waiting. However strange it was, I wasn't frightened or uneasy--in fact, I felt the opposite. I was thrilled to be there. It felt right.

The people shuffled inside and, once I joined them, the sound of cicadas filled the air, like a choir of passionate screams. The barn contained nothing but a giant theatre screen, and the crowd that I'd arrived with. An elderly person sat in the centre of the crowd, holding a babe so small it must've been a newborn. The people donned all sorts of emotions on their faces: some sad, some irritated, some joyful.

Many of them approached the elderly one, mostly with questions, some with concerns or even blessings. The elder simply smiled in response to each and every one of them, yet somehow, I felt like I needed to greet them as well.

I walked to them, moving through the crowd, and just as they did to everyone who approached before me, they gently smiled, then looked back down at the baby. My heart filled with warmth, like my being had been validated, cradled in a thick, warm comforter, fresh out the dryer.

Soon, or maybe it took a while, maybe an eternity, everyone had greeted the elderly one, and the cicadas stopped singing. Dusk had just sprouted from the hot afternoon, and the theatre screen turned on, demanding everyone's attention.

It was quiet for a while. The screen turned dark red and black, producing moving patterns like clouds, dancing to a rhythm only they could hear. It grew brighter and brighter, until it was almost blinding, accompanied by the sound of a woman's sob.

A voice asked, "Would you like to hold the baby?" and though the screen was still out of focus, the camera seemed to be handed from one person to another until it found its way into a woman's arms. Light haloed around her, leaving her face a mystery. She stared at the camera, and in a voice I could never forget, spoke my name.

She was my mom.

Tears started welling up in my eyes, but I heard the newborn coo lightly in the centre. A cicada fell from the ceiling.

Various moments of my infancy played on the screen, ones I could never remember, each ending with a light giggle or cry from the babies around the barn, as if to acknowledge that those were their moments. Each ending with a cicada dropping to the ground.

The memories played consecutively and into my toddlerhood, where my first memories lived. My first friend made a cameo. Then my older brother. Then my first crush. Friends I'd made and thought I'd have forever, but life didn't turn out that way. Eventually, my chapter began.

It depicted the highest highs I'd experienced, and the lowest lows. I watched myself go to concerts and crowd-surf, feeling like I could touch the sky. I rode rides in the amusement park with my shoes off, feeling the wind between my toes as the city skyline sparkled beside me in the night. I felt so alive.

I dated someone. We were so in love. I remember the relationship chipping apart as ugly feelings slowly came to rear their heads. I remember the night we ended things, and I thought I was just not cut out for love. My moments ended and the screen became blurry from tears, but I was unsure if they were mine or the ones from the memories. A cicada fell.

Memories continued to play into what I had not yet experienced. The moments following mine were dreary. I'd spend most of my time in bed, sleeping the days away for I don’t know how long, but after some time, I started living again. I'd go out to see my friends, learning to laugh again. I'd begun taking care of myself, better than ever before. Towards the end of this chapter of mine, I became the happiest I'd ever seen myself. I grew into whom I'd always wanted to be. I looked into the crowd and noticed myself, standing across the barn, smiling graciously at the screen. A cicada fell.

As the chapters went on, I watched myself fall in and out of love again. I'd make new friends, but say goodbye to old ones. I watched my mom die, but welcomed my niece into the world. I got married; we moved into this barn. We had a baby. We travelled. And slowly, we aged. My kid grew up. My brother passed away. Followed by my partner. I watched myself fall apart so completely, so much, yet somehow rebuild every time. The ground was covered in cicadas.

I watched my child take care of me. Carefully, they put me to bed, kissed me on the forehead, and told me they love me. I told them I love them too. As I closed my eyes, the screen turned black, and the last cicada fell.

Everyone turned to the elder in the centre of the room, watching their reaction. They sobbed quietly, but the sound still made its way to every corner of the barn. Moments passed, but eventually they looked at us, eyes glossy with tears. They sniffled, then took a deep breath, and began screaming from the deepest pits of their gut, "WE DID IT!"

As the echo of their cry emanated, a passionate roar erupted from the barn. Everyone yelled at the top of their lungs, "WE DID IT!!!" screaming to the world that we'd lived. We existed. We were HERE.

I shouted with every ounce of energy left in me, "WE DID IT!" We hugged each other, celebrated, and wept. As dawn was born, we realized that it was time. We held whoever was closest to us, chanting to ourselves that we did it. And slowly, the sun rose.