Slice of Life [an English Assignment]

We were told to write two paragraphs about one thing that happened on the first day of school that we'd never forget. Mockingjay came out on the first day of school. Enough said. Of course, I'm disappointed with the postlength, but it was homework and only supposed to be two paragraphs, so -shrugs-

“Epilogue.” At the edge of my peripheral vision, I decipher the word “Epilogue” hovering ominously over the text on the facing page. It’s hard to describe what makes me feel so cheated, what makes my face burn red with rage — maybe because this is the end of the trilogy and I’m panicking, because this is not the ending I’d hoped for. After the first few chapters, I’d known that the book was subpar for the author, and particularly for the series. I don’t even read the epilogue. Upon finishing the book I invested ninteen dollars and six hours in, I promptly slam it shut, storming off, angry, the word “Epilogue” still etched in my brain.

Over the past two years, I’ve devoted more time and energy to the Hunger Games Trilogy than I spent doing chapter notes on the Fountainhead over the summer, which is no small feat. I’ve been a longtime fan of the author, and expected an ending that left me feeling hollow in the best way possible. Her last series was treated with this respect, this realism that made the book perfectly devastating, ad there was plenty of room for a bittersweet, unresolved ending. I wanted to involve my imagination. Instead, I got “Epilogue.” As a reader, I feel betrayed. I will not forget it.