So this is a thing that I've been thinking about for a really long time - I haven't planned this and I have no idea where it's going to go but I haven't written anything that isn't for class in a really long time so let's go for it... this can only go well...

And may the odds be ever in your favour…

That's what they always say during each year's Hunger Games. It's the phrase bandied about throughout the entire duration, it's what everyone says to the tributes going in and what we're told at the listings but it isn't true. Not if you're one of the tributes anyway, especially if you're from a District like mine. Some of us have it easier than others, like the kids from Districts One to Four – they train their entire lives for this.

The rest of us aren't so lucky but then again can you really be considered in any way lucky when you're being selected to go into an arena with twenty-three other people who are trying to kill you just so that they can try to get out alive. You're not only battling against the other tributes, you're also fighting against the Gamemakers who want to put on a good show for everyone.

So you're one out of twenty-four fighting against the rest of the tributes and the Gamemakers just trying to make it to the end so you can go home and see your family. Half of the tributes are more prepared for the arena than others because they're older, faster, stronger and just better fed. Really, when it comes down to it, when you go into that arena everything stacked against you.

Once you come out of the arena (if you come out of the arena) it's just as bad because you have to live with everything that happened in there. You have to live with what you see, what you go through, what you do. It never leaves, no matter how much you try and work through everything it is constantly there in the back of your mind just waiting for the moment when you're most vulnerable. It will haunt you for the rest of your life and there is nothing that you can do about that.

If you're a victor – no matter who you are – you will always have to live your life still in the spotlight. It never ends and every year it will all be dragged back up again. You will never get out and you will never be free.

My name is Primrose Everdeen and I know better than anyone that the odds are never in your favour…

It all started when I turned eleven and my name entered the listings for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. For months beforehand I was having nightmares about my name being read out, despite my sister Katniss trying to convince me otherwise I was convinced that my name was going to be read out and I was going to have to face what was in that arena. The torture and suffering I had been watching on screen for years was going to be my reality. My fears were confirmed and my name was pulled out of the listings.

Making my way up to the podium to stand next to that strange looking woman from the Capitol – Effie – is still a surreal blur even now. All I remember that was running through my mind was just to be like Katniss. Katniss wouldn't go to pieces if this were her: Katniss would be brave and so I should be brave too. Everything else was a complete blur until Katniss' voice cut through the crowd.

'I volunteer as tribute!'

She barely got the sentence out before collapsing into a fit of coughing that physically brought her to the ground. It had been a particularly bad winter and both Katniss and I had gotten very sick. I had recovered quicker than she had and it was still troubling her even then. Despite the fact that everyone had heard her volunteering they refused to accept it no matter how hard she pushed. Not even the people in the Capitol would take a tribute who was already half dead before they entered the arena – that is not interesting viewing.

In the end I refused to let her go and it was this boy Katniss vaguely knew called Peeta and me who were going to be shipped off to the arena. I watched as everyone silently raised their hands in salute to the both of us all the while trying to stay calm and collected. I wanted nothing more the to break down as all my worst fears were coming true but I knew that I had to be strong. I couldn't let Katniss know that I was afraid.

So I prepared myself to leave. I was going to face this even if it meant my death (and it would) I just knew that I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had allowed Katniss to take my place in her condition. She spent so much time being the strong brave one for me now it was my turn to be brave for her.

I had just said goodbye to our mother and was waiting for them to take me out to the train to the Capitol when there was a knock at the door. I turned and saw Katniss enter. I ran over to her and threw my arms around her neck. She hugged me so tightly I thought that she was never going to let me go and I didn't want her too. I just about managed to hold back my tears as she pulled away and looked at me pressing her hand to my cheek.

"You're so brave, you know that?" she told me. I didn't know what to say and I didn't trust myself to speak so I simply nodded. She pulled something small and golden out of her pocket and pressed it into the palm of my hand. "Keep this on you," she told me. "for good luck."

"Thank you." I whispered, not trusting my voice not to crack if I spoke any louder. I looked down at what she had given me. It was a small golden Mockingjay pin, only about the size of a coin. I looked up at her about to ask where she had gotten it.

"Found it in the market the other day." she told me before collapsing into a coughing fit. Seeing her struggling like that made me feel braver – if I could get through this and win then I might be able to get her proper treatment so she could get better. I clenched my fist around the pin so tightly that I felt it digging into my palm, clawing at the skin.

"I'm going to come home ok." I told her. Tears filled her eyes and she gave me a watery smile.

"Ok." She pressed a kiss to my forehead and then the men came to take me to the train station. Both of us managed to hold it in until I had left the room and I managed to keep myself from breaking down until I was on the train. As soon as I was alone I let out everything I had been holding in and sobbed into my pillow until my lungs were burning and my face felt numb. I cried not because I was travelling to my death but because I had made a promise that I didn't have a hope of keeping.

But I did keep it. Through sheer luck, determination and some vague skill I managed to survive the arena. Mostly I did this by waiting for all the rest of them to kill each other and hiding out in the undergrowth. Katniss and Gale had taught me a little bit about how to live out in the woods when I was younger and I just about remembered most of it, the rest of it I managed to pick up in training.

There were a couple of others, like me, who lasted as long as I did without killing everyone. Peeta wasn't one of them – I saw his picture up in the sky on the third or fourth day I can't quite remember which. Days sort of blurred together when you were in the arena.

I did make one friend in there. A girl from District Eleven named Rue. She was the same age I was and we managed to stay hidden together from the others for a couple of days by climbing trees. Then, one day, I came back to our campsite and found she had been shot in the chest with a spear. That night I sat up in the tree we had been hiding in and cried, harder than I had since I had left Katniss. That night I felt more alone than ever. Then the sponsors started coming in.

During the Hunger Games if you are popular with the viewers they sponsor you and send things to help you out while you're in the arena. As it turned out I was quite popular, probably because I was small and (after Rue died) the youngest tribute there was but I wasn't going to complain. The sponsorships were keeping me alive so I was just grateful for them.

The final night of the Games it was just me and one boy from District Two left and the Gamemakers decided to shake things up a bit. They sent these things after us – I didn't get a good look at what they actually were (and I don't think I would have wanted to) but they looked like giant dogs. These things chased us to the top of the Cornucopia and it looked as if that was the end: the boy from District Two was going to kill me and that was going to be the end of it. At the last second he slipped and fell over the edge. He was ripped apart by the dogs and I was named the victor.

It was very strange going home after that. Everyone looked at you differently now that you had been named a victor. It was hardly surprising really considering that District Twelve hadn't had a winner of the Hunger Games for nearly twenty-five years. The people in the Capitol loved me – I was the sweet girl from District Twelve who didn't raise a hand to anyone and I was fine with that. I was able to get the treatment for Katniss that she needed and the family was able to move into a nicer, bigger house and for a couple of days at the very least it seemed as if all of our problems were going to be over.

But of course that's not the end of the story because the odds are never in your favour…