Sing Unburied Sing Quotes Novels & Stories

The next comment read, "I feel so bad for those pregnant women who spent a fortune on Serena's so-called remedy. They didn't just lose money. They put their health at risk, too. Honestly, can each of us get a swing at her? Just beat her to death!" "I'm with you!"

"Because you were about to lock it in. Marry her. Make it permanent. I waited. I gave you time to see it yourself. You used every second to build your clean little life on top of his body and I just kept watching you do it." "If he's really gone," Jose started, "then why dig all this up now, why make me—" "He's not gone." Rainer's voice cracked on the last word like something breaking under too much weight. He looked away. Looked back. "I dug the grave last week. It's empty, Jose. He's been hiding. He's scared. And he hates us both for letting it get that far. For letting her get that close to finishing it."

I step into the live room, headphones on, mic adjusted to my height. The glass between us feels like old times and not. “Ready?” he asks through the talkback. “Always,” I say. “Liar,” he murmurs, but his eyes are soft. I start with something simple. A melody that’s been looping in my head since Palermo. A verse about disappearing. A chorus is about being seen too much and not at all. The words that follow are less kind. They’re about him. *You said you’d ruin me to save me,* I sing. *Signed my name without a sound…*

Don't give off scent Yellow incense smoke obscures the beloved Don't leave me alone. Don't leave me alone. The way to the immense cemetery Don't leave me Don't leave me alone. The cracked music of the recording from a long time ago resounded, the chorus is also the name of the song "Don't leave me alone" resounded non-stop. The cry of a girl buried alone in the grave. Suddenly, she felt cold all over her body. She pulled out her headphones and turned them off. Lately, there have been too many things related to things that she doesn't understand, and now with this song, she probably won't dare to return to her room.

Instead, I drifted away, gazing into the distance. I liked the cemetery's location. It overlooked a glittering lake—the same one where I used to stare at my reflection as a pup. Only Leo would think to bury me somewhere I would have loved. By the time they were too exhausted to continue fighting, they both lay on the ground, wounded, staring up at the moon. Leo bared his teeth at Ryan, panting heavily as if he wanted nothing more than to tear out his throat. "How dare you come to Tiana's grave?" he growled. "She just wanted to rest in peace, not be your possession even in death!"

I was finally alone in this world. They wouldn't let me attend Mom's funeral. They wouldn't even let me visit her grave, so all I could do was kneel on the path we used to walk together, silently pleading for her forgiveness. I didn't dare to cry. I didn't deserve to. Because the hard truth was, I hadn't been able to save her. After the funeral, Carly came to visit me. She pulled me into a hug, her eyes glistening with tears, and whispered, "Thank you, Lina. Thank you for not ruining my life. The fire is over now, so never bring it up around Dad and Jacob again.

The notes accompanying each piece were a celebration of survival and the strength that comes from embracing our imperfections. Cel brought in a box of old letters she never sent. She burned one each night beneath the wall. The ashes were collected in a jar labeled: “Unspoken Doesn’t Mean Unfelt.” The act of burning the letters was a cathartic release, a way to let go of the words that had been left unsaid and the emotions that had been bottled up for too long. The jar of ashes was a reminder that even though some things remain unspoken, they still hold power and significance. It was a celebration of the emotions that shape us and the stories that remain untold.

At the people rising from the ashes of forgetting. He squared his shoulders. “Now,” he said, “we unmake the world they buried.”

At the hospital, Mom woke up mute. The doctors said it was a trauma response. Her mind had shut down to protect itself, and with it, her voice. That mouth, so quick to slash me open with words before, didn’t owe me anything now. I’d stopped expecting apologies or love from it a long time ago. Some things, when they come too late, feel more like rot than redemption. ‘It’s too late, Mom. You missed your chance.’ It turned out that even this cursed house could feel less like home once the unwanted, good-for-nothing burden like me was dead.

The two of them stood there like they were handing down a sentence, waiting for me to bow my head and obey. I did not even bother looking up. I casually pushed the stack of papers back toward them, my tone as calm as if we were talking about the weather. "I'm not qualified to sign that. You should keep it for yourselves." Nash's voice shot up instantly when he saw I was not giving in. It turned dark and threatening. "Jeannie, don't push your luck.” "Someone like your mom, living on the edge of society, what value does she even have? She just takes up space. Linda is young, with a bright future ahead of her. Are you really going to drag her whole life into hell over a dead person?"