The Life We Bury Book Review の小説・ストーリー

"Don't you recognize the place from the news? Asher, stop lying to yourself. It wasn't just me. Oliver's been trying to get through to you, too. But you chose to bury yourself in that little love story of yours. You killed Teresa." I exposed Asher without mercy. Right as he unlocked his phone, hundreds of WhatsApp messages poured in. Dozens of texts and missed calls lit up his phone. Every single one screamed the same thing—he couldn't care less if Teresa lived or died. Asher dropped to his knees beside Teresa, sobbing like his world had just ended. It took me back to my past life—to the day he found out Melanie had died. That same broken look was on his face now. And yet, when I was stabbed

“They’re in the tunnels.” He looked at her, hand tightening on the chip. “There’s only one place left to go. But you’re not going to like it.” “Where?” she asked. He held her gaze, dead serious. “His grave.” Ariana blinked, heart pounding in her ears. “I thought you said he disappeared.” “He did,” Liam muttered, already moving. “But the man everyone’s still quoting like scripture the mind behind all of this he had a burial plot. Wexley Grove. It’s not what it seems.”

"Kneel and beg me, and I might leave you an intact corpse and bury the two of you together." Tricia tugged at his hand coyly. "Scott, go help with the shoveling. I can't even look at her without being reminded of the gruesome way Jimmy died." I watched the sand rise rapidly, gradually burying past my chest, soon about to swallow my neck. Nicky's body lay before me, her one arm still embracing me tightly. "Scott, even if I die, I will turn into a vengeful ghost and tear you to pieces!" I spat out.

The silence of the woods is no longer peaceful. It’s heavy. It weighs a thousand tons. We spend three days burying the dead. The cult members—the "Liberated"—who stood on the porch and took bullets for us. We dig the graves by hand, using shovels found in the shed. The earth is cold, resisting every strike. "We freed them," I whisper, leaning on my shovel, sweat dripping into my eyes. "Just to get them killed." Alex is waist-deep in the soil next to me. He looks older. The grey in his stubble is more pronounced.

"This is the result of your parenting. You raised Julian into a fool who only cares about pleasing you, even if it costs him his life. "Are you satisfied now? Now that he's dead, he'll never be an embarrassment to you again." She then turned around and, without sparing Dad another glance, said, "Officer, I want to press charges. I want him to pay for Julian's life!" Even though Dad was granted bail pending trial, he chose to stay in the detention center, as the outside world had already become hell for him. That night, the media broke the story. "Tough Love Gone Wrong—College Student Freezes to Death During Father's Christmas Eve Mountain Training, Found Clutching Apology Letter."

he breathed. “Yes, and...” I examined the half-eaten cake and poked it with the plastic fork. Putting myself in Cairen’s shoes and remembering the sadness in her eyes. “Burying it is the last thing that takes away the pain of the truth. And now, I am buried along with it, and I am fine.” “Bury? I hope it is easy to get buried with,” he laughed softly at the impossible thing. Yes, it looks impossible, but anyone who has enough may be hard at first but easy as time passes.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” “I said—put it back.” His voice cracked with desperation now. He stepped forward, hand shaking as he pointed at the book. “Those records aren’t for you to carry. They’re a burden this town has borne for centuries. You think you’ve uncovered some great secret, but all you’ve done is dig up rot best left buried.” “Rot doesn’t stay buried,” Evelyn snapped. “It grows. It spreads. And people keep dying because you’d rather hide than face it.”

As if he could barely believe that I existed. Finally, he tried to speak. "Lyra, I..." His voice cracked. "I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you. When I saw the blood, your dress, I thought..." “You buried me,” I said, matter of fact. He flinched. "We searched for two weeks. We discovered a feral assault. The council said..." “You buried me,” I copied, but harder, this time. “You tried for two weeks and then you quit. Had a funeral. Moved on."

Death offers nothing to admire, be it the pale skin of the corpse, the stiff joints, the cloudy eyes, the dilated pupils, the decomposed skin, or the white maggots wriggling around. However, taking someone's life, the process of turning something alive into something dead, stealing that divine power, is what drives people insane. When the final shovel of dirt is thrown, it's as if she has buried the hesitant, wavering human beneath the deep pit. The respectful driver with his hands behind his back stood solemnly waiting for him to enter. Alexandra Dhara, with his hand, expressed her desire to enter first, in a very natural and gentle manner.