you know, i really thought it was over. three months or so had passed, and i hadn't thought about the terror in weeks, or heard the terrible buzzing sound in my head when i tried to sleep. things were going well for me -- i could lay out peacefully on the grass in our backyard, or walk to work without constantly looking over my shoulder. i was relaxed. summer was mild and going well. the bad times were over, it seemed.

that was, until this morning. tommy and i were leaving through the door in my room to walk to his car so he could drop me off at the metro station. i stooped down to leave my car key under the doormat (my father was coming later in the day to exchange his minivan with my dodge neon so i can move some stuff into our new apartment), and as i straightened up i saw it, right next to the door jam, unmoving yet powerful, staring at me, ready to leap and eat my face off at any moment.

it was a cicada.

i leapt back and gasped. "WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. THAT" i yelled to tommy, pointing frantically to the monstrosity that was millimeters away from entering my bedroom.

tommy, clearly unaware of the danger posed, peered closer. "i think it's a cicada," he announced, unperturbed. "wow. it's big."

"YOU THINK??" i screamed. this wasn't just a normal looking cicada, which was a sight bad enough on its own. this was a type of retarded cicada, left for months underground while its brethren bloomed in suburban yards. it had harbored in some sort of satanic subterranean dwelling place, passing the days until it had become uber-developed and ready to unleash its horror on the world.

i'm not sure if i can properly convey the nastiness of this creature. first thing -- this bug was three times the size of a normal cicada. i am well known for my propensity to exaggerate, but i kid you not. three times. the size of a tennis ball, maybe. well, not that big, but it was like 3.5-4 inches long.

second off, it had a well-developed coat of armor protecting its disgusting body. three or four leaves of hard-shelled skin overlapped one another, making its outside look like scales of a medieval human-eating dragon.

third -- and this is the weirdest part -- this cicada was blue. not an outrageous royal blue, but a metallic gray-blue that shone dully in the morning light. and those evil red eyes that a cicada normally posseses? this had blue eyes that were all the more evil, sized as large as marbles. i swear.

if i'd had the presence of mind (and if terror hadn't paralyzed my body, making it impossible for me to step over the bug and back in my room), i would have gotten my camera and taken a picture of the cicada godfather. instead, i ran screaming down the driveway, yelling at tommy to shut the door and that it was every man for himself.

on the way to the metro, we discussed what the hell that thing could have been doing on my doorstep. at first, i resisted any possibility that it was a cicada. i had spent too long in the grasp of terror during may 2004, and i wasn't ready to accept the possibility that they could still be out there. but tommy swore up and down that it must have been one, and i realized that he's probably right. it may not have been a brood x cicada, or it may have been some sort of genetically-enhanced killer cicada, let loose by some deranged scientist, but it was a cicada nonetheless.

so consider this an alert to the masses: what you thought was gone may still be here, more terrible than ever, and ready to eat your face. don't say i didn't warn you.