May the odds be ever in your favor (THG Prim's POV) ** currently editing **

Morning

I turn to my side, hoping to feel the scratchy fur of our cat, Buttercup, rub up against my arm. I don't feel him, which means he probably got up and went outside to look for something to eat.

I get up and stretch my arms. I see the big scar left on it from Gale Hawthorne's bomb. Everyone thought I was dead, but I was just seriously hurt. The bomb left me with scars on my arm, leg, and shoulder.

I get up out of bed and walk to my moms room. I crack open the door to see my mother still asleep in her bed, peacefully. I pull my hair back into two braids, grab a coat, and walk outside.

The wind is blowing, a nice, cool breezy air. It feels good on my face. I make my way to the forest, which isn't that far from my house. I walk through the meadow and past the river to face a tall electric fence that separates District 12 from the forest. I slide under the fence, after making sure that the fence isn't 'alive.' I grab my stash of knives from a nearby fallen tree. I start to throw them at the targets which I have marked in the forest.

I have been practicing throwing knives for five years now, ever since Katniss volunteered for me for the Hunger Games. That day, it hit me that if she wasn't there to volunteer, I probably would of been one if the first to die. I didn't know how to protect myself then. So that's why I practiced throwing knives. So just in case I am to be picked again, I'll be ready.

Today is the reaping. Where they pick a girl and boy from each district to fight to death in a arena. One year, the year my sister volunteered, they allowed two tributes, to survive.

I've hit all my targets which I've marked in the forest. I never miss. Then behind me, I hear a faint crackle of breaking twigs. I turn around and throw my knife. It hits a deer, right in the throat. That is the first deer I've seen in two years. I go over to it and clean the wounds. As I'm doing so, I hear the rustling of bushes, and a familiar voice.

"Hey."

I turn around and see Rory Hawthorne, Gale's younger brother. He's been my best friend since I was little.

"You scared me!" I exclaim.

"Sorry! I didn't mean too. You shouldn't be here you know. It's reaping day, Peacekeepers are everywhere, he says brushing his shaggy brown hair out of his face to reveal his blue eyes.

"Well, I was practicing with my knives and got this," nodding towards the deer.

"What are you gonna do with that?"

"Hopefully sell it to some Peacekeepers."

"Not today!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do with it?"

" I don't know, sell it to the Mellarks."

"Fine, help me please."

"Alright."

Rory helped me pick up the deer and bring it to my house to skin and clean. After doing so, we cut it up and hauled it over to the Mellark's Bakery. Mrs. Mellark answered the door and happily took half the deer for 10 pounds.

Rory and I divided the rest of the deer to take home.

"See you at the Reaping," I say.

"Okay! See you there!"

I walk to Victor's Village, where Katniss, my mom, and I live. Well, actually, now it's just my mom and I who live there now. I rarely see Katniss anymore. She's always either in the Capitol, going to parties, or mentoring tributes. Ever since Katniss and Peeta won, there hasn't been another victor. When I got home, Mom was up in the kitchen cooking.

"Hey mom."

"Hello Prim," she says with a smile," How was your hunt?"

"Good! I killed a deer and sold half to Mrs. Mellark for 10 pounds and Rory and I split the rest," I say, putting the bag with the remaining deer and another bag, filled with money.

"I laid something out for you. It's on your bed. I hope you like it."

"Alright."

I take a shower and wash my hair. I get out and see a light green dress laid out on my bed. Next to it laid a pair of socks and brown shoes.

I put them on a went to the kitchen to show my mother.

"Wow, you look beautiful."

"Thank you mother."

She then did my hair in braids and pulled it back into a bun, similar to the style she did to Katniss the day she volunteered.

We then heard the clang of the bells, and headed out, along with the other hundreds of families going to see whether or not there child is to be picked.