Please *Catoniss*

Chapter 3 - Unfavorable Odds

      Never before has the saying' May the odds be ever in your favor' been so ironic and taunting. Why even let such a saying exist? In District 12, you can either starve, create a slow, agonizing life working for low wages in the mines, or constantly put your neck out on the line for the entertainment of a corrupt government. When have the odds ever been in our favor before the rebellion? Gale was right, his continuous rants while we hunted in the woods no longer seem so meaningless. With my odds, I will most likely not make it out of this arena alive.

      Funny, sitting on this stuffy train, with some of the finest foods I've ever tasted, I want nothing more than to be back in my woods with Gale, hunting for what could have been tonight's celebration feast for us making it through the reaping another year. But it was either me or Prim, and I refuse to let that happen. She's too innocent, the Capitol would chew her up and spit her out before I could even take a step.

      We have yet to reach the Capitol much to Effie Trinket's dismay, but I have absolutely no problem with our delaying arrival. As Haymitch, - the only living mentor District 12 has, managed to say between full gulps from a bottle of spirits - that this is the time to be thinking of strategies when we get into the arena. I don't really know what my strategy will be. Probably just avoid every other tribute as much as I can and somehow get my hands on a bow- I can't be weaponless, not in the games.

     To tell the truth, I'm scared out of my wits. The game-makers will surely have their sick fun in the games, and who knows what I might get caught up in. In the justice building, I had promised Prim that I would return to her, but every foot the train travels away from District Twelve, the more uncertain I am about my promise's certainty to be kept. 

       But at least it's not Prim here in my place. The thought of sweet, innocent Prim standing here on the retched train makes my stomach churn. I couldn't loose my little duck to anyone, let alone the Capitol. Sure I might be afraid, but what would Prim be feeling? What sort of horrors would she have to go through instead? Images of Prim's body streched and twisted almost threaten to make the lavish dinner served to us earlier make due on it's earlier promise to return. 

        The little girl from District 11 who reminded me so much of my younger sister comes to my mind and my blood seems to grow to be too hot. She's just I child. Hell, so am I. What sort of point does the games really serve? Revenge? No. It's to show the districts that the Capitol is in control: and they are. If they can drag our children away and make then fight to the death, there isn't much more control they could have. Not unless they somehow made the games worse, which is impossible to fathom. 

        All I know, is that I am about to spend the possible last week of my life surrounded by the people who will most likely cheer on my killer. Besides, there's not like I'll get that many sponsers. The outlying districts have never brought that many contenders into the games. But there is one thing I have that many of the other tributes don't - I can survive. After years of hunting in the woods with Gale, I know how to feed myself, which is something the Careers don't have as a skill. 

        I can get through these games. If the arena has trees, I should be able to make it, at least longer than most trributes. I may not be the strongest, but I know how to make it. And I'll make it home to Prim, no matter what I have to do to get there.