Blue

Water Cycle

Adam walked methodically forwards, his limbs dragging. Towards the beach. He was walking back in again. He could hear that beautiful, glorious song, carried towards him on a soft sea breeze. If he closed his eyes, ignored the jerk of his legs and the swing of his arms, it was almost pleasant. He opened his eyes again, confused. He shouldn't be able to close his eyes. He turned his head hesitantly to the side, even more bewildered when it moved. His head was completely free of the compulsion driving his body into the surf. He opened his mouth and the sound of his scream split the night.

"Help me! Help!"

Nobody came. His body plunged into the edges of the water, where it curled under itself with a crash of white foam. The waves smacked against his body, but his body paid no mind to the force of the water. He blinked rapidly as water smacked briefly in his face, choking and coughing on the water. The taste of the ocean filled his mouth, bitter and salty. He screamed again, only to catch a mouthful of water. His throat was burning. His body swam out towards the full moon in sure, even strokes.

"Let me go! I didn't do anything to you! Let me go!" he screamed. The song didn't even waver. The siren sang on, coaxing him further and further away from the shore. Abruptly, his body stopped swimming. The notes of her song changed slightly, coaxing him down, down, down. He was doomed. He screamed underwater, a torrent of bubbles and air streaming violently from his lips.

"Adam?"

His mom swam before him, her pale hands holding him in place under the sea. She looked the same as he remembered, except for the large, shiny tail. If this had been any other situation, he would have called her a mermaid instead of a siren. She was beautiful. A crown of jingle shells and abalone was nestled on her hair, shimmering.

"Mom?"

She didn't react to his voice. She continued to hold onto his arms, holding him with those pale hands. Her grip was soft. Her nails looked shimmery, the way the shells on her head did. He saw how short they were and was confused again.

"Adam?" she asked again.

Her nails were so short. How could they have made those marks on Alvaro? How had they ripped him apart? He couldn't put it together. He had already died. He was having no difficulty breathing and hearing under the water right now. He looked at her more closely. Her face was rippling, shimmering, just like her shells and her nails. Her whole body seemed to glisten, like a string of twinkling Christmas lights through someone else's window. He cocked his head to the side. Her face rippled again.

"Adam?" It wasn't his mom's voice coming out of that mouth. He couldn't believe it. Her face rippled for the last time, replaced by a familiar worried face.

"Blue?"

"Adam?"

He woke with a start. Curtis was standing over him uncertainly.

"Oh. Sorry, I was trying to wake you. You were laying there in the world's deepest sleep I've ever seen in my life. It was peculiar. But you're good? You look kind of... I don't know. You're alright?" Curtis said.

Adam hoisted himself up to sitting with a groan, "Yeah. Fucking peachy, dude."

The Culling was tonight. He couldn't see it, but he knew the full moon was hanging high in the sky, glaring unflinchingly at the world below it. Tonight, he might die. Tonight, he might not. He dragged himself out of the cot and laced up his boots. The Culling had to be the reason for that weird dream. His brain was thinking about all of the people who had very probably been murdered by sirens. The only reason he hadn't seen his dad was because his Grandmother couldn't stand to keep pictures of her lost son in the house, so he had only seen him once or twice. The stress was getting to him. He laced his boots up nice and tight.