This Chick Here: Let's Have a Flashback

Since school still hasn't begun and my blog feels as yet unfulfilled, I decided to give you a little (more) insight into my life. So here's a flashback post to the end of my 5th Grade year. Now, 5th Grade was the year that I met Moonlight. Let's get one thing straight.

I did NOT like her.

Now, we got over a lot of this nonsense during the end of the 5th Grade; I just thought you should have that information so you can see exactly what our friendship has been through.

Anyway.
I'm sure y'all here in Virginia remember the massive infestation of 7-year Cicadas we had 6 years ago. This is what this flashback is all about.

The Summer of the Cicadas

It was utterly disgusting; there's really no other description. The fat, black, buzzing bugs with their scarlet eyes and spider webbed wings flying in all directions, the noise of the sheer numbers of cicadas in trees, on the ground, underground, in the air- everywhere you could possibly imagine. The dead were everywhere, crushed bodies, broken wings, heads littered over the asphalt parking lot, scattered across the grass of the soccer field, strewn on the sidewalks.

For those women of the 5th Grade, these were entirely unacceptable conditions.


I walked down the sidewalk clutching Moonlight's hand, eyes shut tight. "I don't like bugs. I don't like bugs." I repeated over and over again as we left the school building, I could hear the buzzing growing stronger as we approached the playground and soccer field.

"You can't stay inside forever." Moonlight told me. I could hear the underlying smirk in her voice.

"Shut up." I said. "You don't like them either." The buzzing was now better described as a roar as I made my way up the slight incline to the soccer field, eyes still shut.

"Open your eyes, Shattered." Moonlight poked me.

"No."

She poked me again. "I guess I'll just go then." She skillfully disentangled herself from my lethal grip and stepped away.

My eyes snapped open in a panic. "No!"

She just grinned at me.

"I hate you." I said, half serious.

"Come on," She rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

Together, we marched bravely on into the black swarming abyss that was our school soccer field. Why is that so terrible, you ask? Our soccer field was no more than a raised dirt platform with grass, spray paint, and two soccer goals situated on either end. This was also surrounded on two sides by very large trees, one of them being the particularly famous friendship and meeting tree; it was the largest tree on the field and we called it M.E.L.T.S Grove. The letters being a combination of some of our initials.

Why didn't we just play on the playground, you ask? The playground was for the losers. Enough said.

As we looked toward the masses of flying insects, we were approached by something almost as bad and way more difficult to get rid of than Cicadas.

Boys.

To Be Continued...