They say when you die it’s like traveling down a tunnel with a blinding white light at the end, and everyone you ever knew and loved, everyone who has gone before you, will be there to welcome you. But it wasn’t like that at all. Not for me. It was more like stepping from one world to the next; trading one bleak existence for another.
Maybe there is a tunnel. Something connecting this world to the next, but I never got that far. I could have turned my back on all of it; left it behind me and entered whatever lay beyond where I am now. Another life…heaven? I don’t know. What I do know is I resisted. I denied the force that was beckoning me and I chose to stay here, surrounded by a solid breathing world I will never be part of again.
Maybe I should have gone. I should have left and found that tunnel or doorway, or whatever it is, and never looked back. I should have left my pain in this world and started fresh in another. But there’s a funny thing about all that pain and hurt after you die. It becomes more than just emotions. It becomes almost palpable; hot and sticky, and adhering you in place. I think, sometimes, I wouldn’t have been able to leave it all behind even if I had wanted to.
The pain made my decision a hasty one. I couldn’t separate myself from the agony that screamed for justice. I didn’t take the time to really consider my choice, or step back and try to fully understand what my decision meant.
Dahli says it’s unfair, cruel even, that we are given such a drastic decision without knowing the consequences. She says we should have come to the resolution with balanced hearts, not ones that are crippled. She’s right of course. But what if we never really have a choice? What if us choosing to stay was just part of a bigger plan we can’t see? I’ve considered the possibility that Dahli and I are merely smaller parts of large cosmic game-pawns or checkers, or whatever.
Death comes to us all, but when death comes early the loss is all the more tragic. It is nice to think that the souls of our loved ones move on to a better place, but what if that is not the case? What if death is so jarring, so filled with trauma that the opportunity to move on is lost and the spirit must remain behind, trapped at the scene for all time? Thorns of Glass follows the afterlife of Sam, and his memories of how he became a ghost at the age of fifteen. He struggles with his circumstances and his inability to effect the real world while his family suffers and grieves.
The story is excellent and filled with just enough suspense to keep the reader hooked. It is pretty obvious who the murderer is, and that Sam was murdered, but the specifics are maddeningly close to the surface but kept hidden until that perfect moment of revelation. The characters are an excellent example of certain stereotypes, but they are compelling in their sincerity and I thought they were the strongest part of the book. The book centers around the physical and emotional abuse of Sam, so it is not a happy-happy-sunshine sort of book, but it offers a terrific view from the abused’s perspective and takes it a little further than you might normally find with the subject matter.
There is not much bad about this book. It is a little short, but I don’t think you could have made it longer without losing the perspective and the passion of it. The beginning portion of the book is a little long-winded with a lack of dialogue, but it moves on to the story soon enough, so I was able to get past it.
This was a great little book. The subject matter is pretty heavy and I didn’t walk away from the book with a big smile on my face, but I really enjoyed it. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who likes a short but heavy read.
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