Novel & Cerita The Life We Bury Book Review

Life says, tilting her head to the side, considering. “Oh ew,” I whisper, raising a hand to my mouth, still staring up at Anton. “I mean, you were buried…whole. But…but what did the undertakers do? Did they like…take all your blood out?” “Oh my god,” Anton groans, covering his face with both hands, turning away from us all. “That’s so gross.” “Well, that’s inconvenient,” Life says on a sigh, looking even more bored and casual than Faiza, who doesn’t look quite shaken but is certainly more still and quiet than she usually is. “I guess you’ll need to get new blood. But surely that can be arranged –“

My ears began to bleed. The burial wasn't in a cemetery. We took my father back to the estate, deep into the woods where the modern world couldn't reach. Leo’s teams had cleared out the military "cleaners," and for a few hours, the land was ours again. We buried him beneath an ancient oak tree, its roots intertwined with the very soil the Council had tried to poison. As the dirt settled, I felt a strange vibration in my marrow. It wasn't the jagged "radio station" of the Council. It was a low, steady hum—like a heartbeat.

Our love story began on the road, and so it seems it does end on the same road. Years passed by, just like every living creature in this world that wasn't cursed by the Blood Rose, he died. I looked for his body after he died. But, it seems he was burned into ashes. I wasn’t able to keep our promises—that we will be buried next to each other. How am I going to be buried when I was the one buried into regret, to frustration? I am now immortal and perhaps the only thing that could bury me six feet below the ground is when I find a way to terminate my lifetime contract to the Blood Rose.

“But now, I see that my existence has only ever been a burden to him. He’ll have a new family someday, and I’ll always be the outsider. From the beginning to the end, I am destined to be alone. “Life here... it’s not so good. I’ve decided that I won’t come back in my next life. I don’t regret my choice, but it’s a little sad. I never got to experience what it’s like to truly be loved before I died.” Celia stayed at the cemetery, talking to her parents for a long time. When she finally finished, she didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she found the cemetery’s caretaker. After some discussion, Celia made arrangements to purchase a burial plot beside her parents’ graves. This way, she thought, w

I flipped open the blue folder, resting my fingertips on a page of lab results. "I have all the evidence of Vivian's academic fraud, including backup surveillance footage of her tampering with clinical trial data. The cancer medication she launched last year caused 15 patients to die from its side effects, and the Carters covered it up, but I have the contact information of the deceased's family members."

That's why I'm going to have a sit-down and see whether I want to deal or not. I wondered what it would be like, to focus on something else for once. To look forward to living when I'd been so hellbent on dying. Knowing that you'd lived past the day you thought you were going to be dead is an odd feeling. It doesn't feel so much like borrowed time but a rebirth.

Her mind was a little sluggish in the way that spoke of major blood loss, but that was fixable, given enough time. “We should just throw the body off a cliff. Be quicker that way. No one would find it,” someone said in broken English with a broken accent of native speaker. “Someone who shouldn’t might find it and then we’d have the Americans all up our ass again. It’s not worth the risk. Better to bury it deep.” Wonderful, Kira thought tiredly. Guess I get to cross off buried alive on my Situations I Have Been In And Wished I Weren’t list.

Her words give me a small boost of confidence, but the weight of the decision still sits heavy in my chest. "First," Octavius says, his tone softening slightly, "we bury our dead." The sombre reminder slams back into me like a physical blow... . . . . . That evening, the burial ceremony is silent. Heavy. Twelve graves. Twelve lives lost. I didn’t even know most of them, but that doesn’t make it any easier. The entire pack gathers in the burial grounds, heads bowed, faces drawn. The only sounds are the distant calls of birds and the occasional sharp sniffle from someone trying, and failing, to hold back tears.

Lucien leaned against the car, watching Eliza struggle as Bibi demanded to be carried and also walk at the same time. “She’s very demanding,” he said dryly. “She knows what she wants,” I replied. Alan squeezed my hand. “Smart kid.” We walked together, a strange little group, laughter breaking through the heaviness in awkward bursts. Eliza tripped over her heels. Lucien complained. Bibi declared herself queen of the backseat. For a moment, the cemetery faded behind us. As Alan opened the driver’s door, I paused. I took one last look at the burial site. At the flowers. At the woman still crying. At the name carved into stone.

We walked back to the bunker quietly. Each one of us was buried deep into his thoughts and his own world. I looked at Alice and wanted to say something to ease her worries, but my mouth didn’t cooperate. I needed some support myself, someone to tell me don’t worry and everything is going to be alright. This situation was fucked up more than that one with the cannibals. At least those monsters didn’t hide their identity or play saviors, but Johnson was like someone was raising cattle, then selling them.