It started on a cold night 10 years a go in New Hampshire over Christmas break. The whole family thought it would be an awesome idea to go to the movies and 9 year old me was pumped to say the least. Then I received the harsh news: I was too young to go. I wasn’t unfamiliar to this, seeing that I was the youngest of all my cousins and being left out of some things was inevitable. However, this one hit home. It was the talk of the family during the whole vacation. What is it you ask? It was Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. It was the first time I ever heard of the movie and certainly wouldn’t be the last. It became a forbidden fruit. The rejection I felt that night fueled my addiction to the series.
From that day forward I would end up watching each movie of the series multiple times. Each time would be pleasurable for me knowing that I wasn’t allowed to watch it. I would wait until my parents would leave me alone for maybe an hour just so I could get my fix. It was a whole new world for me. I vividly remember the battle of Helm’s Deep, a battle filled with bloodshed and tragedy but maintaining a worthy storyline with the characters like Gandalf and Aragorn. It was mankind’s last chance for survival in the violent world and that sole conflict is what kept me on the edge of my seat. It wasn’t until my parents allowed me to watch it when I lost interest in it. It didn’t provide the same thrill as it used to. However, to this day I find myself binging on the epic saga a couple days a year. It provides a certain level of nostalgia that cant be matched.