“The screw through Cinder’s ankle had rusted, the engraved cross marks worn to a mangled circle.”
I read the first line of the slowly fraying book, Cinder by Marissa Meyer. It was the third time I’d found refuge in the pages over the last five years. My world has become increasingly complicated yet mundane over time, but the imaginative world of The Lunar Chronicles has remained the same.
I appreciate that.
When I first read The Lunar Chronicles, I was entering sixth grade, eager for the future and nervous for what it could entail. I became enthralled by the intricate world the book described, rich of different mysteries and multifaceted characters. As I followed Cinder’s journey, I learned how to embark on my own journey, finding role models in the strong female characters.
I finished reading the series in a few weeks and felt like a ghost, ripped of life and its joys as I returned back to the real world. I no longer had the main characters holding my hand as I dealt with life. I eventually got over the emptiness of reality, but I carried the strength of the characters with me on my trek forward.
As my time in middle school waned, so did my interest in reading. Every book I picked up would turn to a block of unlinked letters as soon as I opened it. I grew tired of my inability to return a book to the library having read more than ten pages.
With my faith in literature and my own reading abilities declining, I dusted off my copy of Cinder in hopes to rekindle my inner bookworm. A smile immediately appeared on my face as I read the first pages.
I was once again enveloped by the same warmth I had felt three years ago. In a matter of hours, I found myself at the last page, fully immersed in the battle between Earth and Luna once again.
It was a strange feeling. Knowing the book I was reading was not new material to me. Knowing there were so many other texts unknown to me but I spent my time on this specific one. Knowing my friends would raise a brow to see me with a book I flipped through years ago.
Yet, it was an exhilarating feeling. Knowing my favorite scenes were only a few flips away. Knowing the twists ahead of time and seeing their build-up. Knowing I could open the book any day and transport myself back into that glorious world.
I grew accustomed to re-consuming media. I reread all of my favorite books and rewatched the shows that made me smile the largest. Just like a song that I can’t get enough of, I put the media I consumed on replay.
There is an ache in knowing I have a few years in between me and my next voyage into The Lunar Chronicles. But like an old friend, whenever times get hard, I can lay my head on Cinder’s shoulder and find comfort in her story.
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