How I find myself haunted by the image of Mags from Hunger Games

Mags Catching Fire

Haunted by her memories of volunteering for Annie Cresta

I have never read The Hunger Games trilogy. I am familiar with it because 1) I am a bookworm, and 2) I fell in love with the film (Not to mention I find Josh Hutcherson hot). I watched the first film a couple of times and I can’t wait for the next film. Last Friday, I watched the Catching Fire film and all I can say is that I am so moved by one character.
I have read tons of books. The last time I found myself so attached with a character was during the time reading Deathly Hallows. Seriously, reading how Severus Snape risked everything in order to protect Harry is one big of revalation to me. The next thing I knew, I was crying. But this time, I did not cry. Instead, I am haunted by the memory of Mags volunteering in place of Annie Cresta.

I do not know why. Maybe because I was raised by my grandmother when I was little and I lost him when I was right in the middle of being innocently young and annoyingly imaginative. I know when I lost my grandmother I was in third grade, and I can still remember how shocked I am receiving the news. I did not cry then, but I know I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore, and it hurts. Mags’ sacrifice, and eventually her death was so raw (Suzanne Collins really know how to capture the rawness of human emotion) it gives me a pang right into where it hurts. I can also give credit to how the movie showed her volunteering (the way she raised her hands and put her hand into her chest).

For the last two nights, I find myself haunted by that memory. It is so creepy and touch at the same time. And the creepiest part of it— I do not know why.

PS. I finished reading Catching Fire and Mockingjay last weekend. Great reading experience, I should say

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