26th November, 2015. 2:45pm
I fell in love with The Hunger Games after my sister made me watch it at home. I made a vow to myself to ignore that series after I was forced to write a book review of the box set without having read it first because someone was too brilliant to understand the story, let alone come up with a decent sentence. But after seeing the film adaptation for the first time, I was swayed. I thought it was morbid, but I fell in love with Katniss and Peeta. After that, it has been our tradition to watch it on the big screen when they come out. It’s sad that I didn’t get to spend the last Mockingjay movie with my sister, but I’m glad I had my brother and sister-in-law with me, who my sister and I dragged into Panem as well. Last Sunday, November 22, as I was watching the movie for the second time around, I realized how much I love this series, just as much as I loved Harry Potter. It was worth it. Everything. All the times I read the books over and over, all the tears that I’ve shed, all the time I’ve wasted watching videos on YouTube paid off. I know that for some people the book sucks, but I feel otherwise. It was definitely a book I cried to the most, and still does whenever I reread Mockingjay. Continue reading