JUNE 7: Filming For The Hunger Games Franchise Wraps in Atlanta

***Spoilers for Mockingjay - Part 2***

Filming for the epilogue and different reshoots for Mockingjay - Part 2 have concluded. *sobs silently*

Francis Lawrence sent out a tweet earlier today, which you can see below: 

Looks like our short reunion is almost over. Last day.

— Francis Lawrence (@Hibbits) June 7, 2015

Earlier this week, Nina Jacobson sent out this BEAUTIFUL picture of the filming. 

AHH, THE FEELS. We still have much that we'll be provided with, it's not over quite yet. :) 

They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much. The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy wil know in a few years. How can I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:

Deep in the meadow, under the willow 

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow 

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes 

And when again they open, the sun will rise. 

Here it's safe, here it's warm 

Here the daisies guard you from every harm 

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true 

Here is the place where I love you. 

My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard. Peeta says it wil be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that wil make them braver. But one day I'l have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won't ever real y go away. I'l tel them how I survive it. I'l tel them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.