by Nikki Reininger | Featured Columnist

The first time I picked up a Twilight book I was in middle school, and desperately in love with the concept of love. This was also a point in time when a vast majority of the public still found the notion of a sparkling vampire ludicrous (but I digress).

I admit, as a young one, I fell into the Twilight craze, though it was mostly a guilty pleasure and I’d found the books long before most of the girls in my classes knew how to read. I’ve always been fond of vampires, so the idea of falling in love with one instantly set my little seventh grade heart a flutter.

I was somewhat disappointed in the story by the end of it, because it honestly didn’t seem very dark. Before the wave of teen romance novels, vampires were Gothic, terrifying creatures of the night with a thirst for blood and occasionally companionship.

Still, despite my opinions of the first book, the day New Moon came out, I rushed to the bookstore for my own copy. To quote a certain movie, it was “like my own personal brand of heroine”.

I eventually kicked my addiction, but not before attending the midnight premiere of the first film, much to my horror.

Every cliche my mind had dug out of the book had suddenly been multiplied by a thousand thanks to Hollywood. Once I realized that Edward’s sparkles on the big screen reminded me far too much of body glitter, I decided it was time to end my little affair.

But the Cullens just couldn’t take the hint.

Everywhere I went, fangirls were never in short supply, arguing over “Team Edward” or “Team Jacob” in all their cult-like fanaticism. I actually overheard an older student confide in her friend that she was sure she’d marry Jasper one day. My dad was a student counselor at the time. I seriously considered giving her his card.

My attendance at the midnight premiere of New Moon was coordinated in secret by one of my cousins, whose birthday party ‘just so happened’ to fall on the same night. I was in the theater before I knew what had hit me. The only reason I didn’t strangle her afterwards was due to my devout love for special effects done right.

I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the CGI werewolves, especially considering the quality of Bella’s emotional/mental state was so poor.

It baffled me, and still does to this day, how such a needlessly tortured character was supposed to represent the ‘every-girl’, which was why I vowed to never give the series another of my precious midnights ever again.

Looking at my previous track record, you can probably figure how well that worked out.

Yes! I was at the premiere of Eclipse, so sue me! I don’t have a problem, I can quit whenever I want! It’s karma, or the universe, or something that keeps me tied to the darn thing.

I watched the third movie, spent the night hating Bella’s guts for being so popular despite doing absolutely nothing to deserve it, fawned over the CGI, and went home at three a.m., feeling irritated yet satisfied.

I’m a junior now, the first installment of Breaking Dawn is close to release, and I’ve finally come to terms with myself and my strange relationship with the ‘cultural phenomenon’. I’ll never escape it, so there’s no point in fighting back.

I’ll be attending the premiere of Breaking Dawn with my mother (the first time I haven’t had to pay for my own ticket), and hopefully now that we are at peace, I can enjoy the film as just that, a film; one of perhaps a dozen I’ll see this year, and certainly nothing to fret my life over.