Fixated

CW: Self-harm, violence

He heard the sound of the glass under his feet before he felt the pain. He didn’t react at all. Adam sat on the concrete floor and looked at the glass that was dug deep into the soles of his bare feet. He picked at the glass with his index finger, pulling the shards out one by one; trickles of blood followed. It felt uncomfortable more than it hurt. He took a shard of glass the size of his pinky nail and lightly shoved it into his other foot till he drew blood. He felt better after making four little holes in his foot to match the other. Drawing a deep breath, Adam stood up and continued walking. He could feel the blood on his feet cooling with every step.

He was glad it was dark with no one around to see him, he would've been forced to wear shoes. He hated weird looks, he hated wearing shoes even more. 

The ocean's waves were loud, almost calling him. he was going there nonetheless. The sand felt uncomfortable against the soles of his feet, so he sped up his pace, walking like a penguin. Finally, he reached the water. Wasting no time, he dipped his feet in the freezing water and smiled.

“Is this the coldest the ocean has ever been?” Adam asked as he dipped his hands in the water, running them through his hair.

“Of course not; it used to be much colder years ago,” the sand responded.

“Oh, I wish I had been there.” The disappointment in his voice was loud.

The sand laughed. “Why’s that?”

An irate expression now lay on Adam's face. “I love the cold,” he said. “I told you that last night… and the night before.”

“Maybe I’ll remember tomorrow night then,” the sand responded jokingly.

Adam didn’t respond, as he was obviously frustrated with the way the sand was treating him. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see a young lady. She was heavily dressed. The first thing he noticed was the thick boots she wore. He couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

“Are you talking to someone?” she asked, pointing to her ears to gesture at earbuds.

Adam's brows furrowed in confusion. Couldn’t she tell she was interrupting his conversation? He wondered if she had anything wrong with her. He nodded and turned back to face the ocean. She responded by asking who. He pointed to the ground to refer to the sand. She giggled. He heard her footsteps coming closer now. Why won’t she leave, he thought. The girl was now right by his side.

“What’re you doing here all alone?” she asked, smiling. Her cheeks were pink from the cold. She grew disappointed when she heard nothing in response. “Do you want to be left alone?” 

Adam began to nod before the ocean interrupted him. “Won’t you feed her to me, Adam?” It was less of a request and more of a demand. He had tried feeding himself to the ocean, but it would never let him.

“No,” he said louder than he had intended.

The smile returned to the girl's face. “I thought you were ignoring me.” Adam turned to look at her, he had been speaking to the ocean.

“Only a taste then, I haven’t eaten in so long.”

He thought for a second and finally decided. “Come,” he said, holding his hand out for the girl to grab.

“Where?” She put her hand onto his hesitantly, a smile still plastered on her face. Her hand was warm, hot even, he couldn’t help but hate her.

He led her closer into the ocean, they were now at knee level. He couldn’t feel the girl tugging, trying to free her hand from his, nor did he hear her voice. It was even colder than last night. Before he knew it his entire body was underwater. He didn't know where the girl had gone. She must’ve disliked the cold. He could tell the ocean was satisfied. To him, it felt like he spent hours underwater soaking it in; he wouldn't have left if he didn’t feel like he was losing consciousness.

He emerged, taking a deep breath of air, cold air. In his right hand was the broken neck of the girl, and in his left was her hand, also broken. A confused expression played on his face. He let go of her, waiting for her to stand up, but she didn’t. Adam felt true envy. She could hold her breath far longer than him. Adam dipped his head back in, trying to outlast her underwater, but she bested him every time, even on his tenth try. 

He left the water soaking wet and angry that the girl in boots had bested him. He decided he would come back tomorrow and try again. On his way back home, he made sure to walk over the glass with both feet this time so he wouldn’t have to do it manually and waited till he was home to remove the shards. He stripped fully and sat on the floor, almost instantly falling asleep. He would always fall asleep after the beach. 

In his dreams, he could hold his breath longer than the girl every time. She asked him to teach her, but he refused, happy with the praise he was receiving.

The sun had already begun to set by the time Adam was awake. He stretched out of the fetal position he was sleeping in and stood. He enjoyed watching the sunset, like a countdown to a big reward. He waited till it was pitch black to go out again. His heart was beating, this time he would beat her no matter what. He couldn’t help but be excited. Adam tried to find the glass he stepped on the night before, but unfortunately it was gone. The girl was gone too. He searched the entire beach for her, walking back and forth for hours. 

Finally, he sat on the sand and asked. “Have you seen her?”

“Who?” the sand responded.

“The girl in the boots. She was with me last night, we were playing.” He was hoping the specifics would help him remember.

“She was with the ocean.” The playful tone the sand had the night before was now gone.

Adam ran to the ocean, submerging only his feet, and asked again, “Do you know where she is?” The ocean was silent. “I’ll find someone else to feed you.” He paused. “Will you tell me then?” Still, the ocean had no response. Even though the ocean ignored him, he would try anyway. He had to beat her at their game.

He left home earlier the following night hoping more people would be around. He still couldn’t find the glass on his walk to the beach, although it wouldn’t matter since he wore shoes this time.

For the first time in his life, he disliked how empty the beach was. He sat in the sand and buried his face into his arms. He hoped someone would approach him like the girl had. The sun set and the night grew dark, yet he didn’t move an inch.

“To your right,” the sand hinted.

Adam lifted his head, and just as the sand had said, far to his right, a figure stood gazing into the ocean. Swiftly, he stood and began walking towards what seemed to be a tall man only a few years older than him. The man turned to look at Adam once he had gotten close, he smiled and nodded. His hands were in his pockets, Adam immediately imagined how hot they must be, like the girls’.

The man spoke once he realised Adam had no intention of leaving. “Beautiful night isn’t it?”

Adam nodded and smiled, or at least he thought he smiled; to the man, it looked like an awkward grimace. He pointed to the ocean, his eyes still on the man, almost as if he was afraid of him leaving.

“Yes, it’s very pretty.” The man tried to decode what Adam was saying. Adam held his hand out for the man to grab. He looked at him oddly.

“You want me to follow you?” he asked.

Adam nodded and put his hand down, seeing that the man wasn’t taking it. He took a few steps closer into the water and heard the man following him. Adam stopped to turn and look at him when he heard his footsteps stop. He saw him take a few steps back as words came out of his mouth, but Adam couldn’t hear him. 

Quickly, he grabbed hold of his wrist and walked into the water. The man tugged, trying to free his arm just like the girl had. Adam turned to see a fist flying towards his face, he felt the impact but not the pain. He couldn’t understand what happened. He looked up to see the man had already begun running. Adams legs moved before he could realize, and he was closing the distance between them quickly. In one of the man's hands was a phone; he was clearly speaking to someone, the other hand was limp by his side, the one Adam had grabbed.

He tackled the man on to his stomach and pushed his head down into the sand to stop him from getting back up.

“Please,” Adam said. He didn’t know what he meant, but he hoped the man would comply. 

He dragged the man by his ankle. He could feel him struggling, but it didn’t affect him, neither did the kicking. Just where the ocean met the sand, Adam stopped. He still had his shoes on; he would’ve rather died than go in with his shoes. He dropped the man and untied his shoes, the man tried to stand up behind him, to no avail.

“Don’t move!” an officer yelled. Adam looked up to see multiple officers with their guns aimed at his head. 

Confusion overtook him. Didn’t they see what he was trying to do? The man’s crawling drew Adam’s attention away from the officers. He reached for him, trying to grab hold of his ankle. He could feel every bullet shot into his body. The only thing he could think of as his body hit the ground was how he loved the cold ocean when it hit the back of his head. Even the sand remembered.