Disclaimer: I do not own the hunger games, or any of the characters.

"Flight attendants, please move to the cabin, we are now ready for takeoff," the pilot's voice rings over the intercom.

I have been sitting in room number 40, the room I am going to be occupying for the next three days and four hours, for almost an hour. Getting all the passengers into their rooms has been taking quite a while, but having a bed to sit on is making it somewhat worthwhile.

Just as Katniss told me I should do, I get off the bed and start to look for the lever that maneuvers the bed into an upright position. I crawl around on the floor, until I find the cold, metal lever.

The bed squeaks as I pull the lever, shoving the bed into a sitting position. The resistance surprises me, as I suspect that all of the rooms are used frequently. But the amount of time it takes to move the bed, and find the seatbelt, squashes that assumption.

As I wait for the plane liftoff, I am able to get a better view of my room. Other than the bed, which is in the leftmost corner, there is a small toilet and sink that is covered with a shower curtain.

"Odd," I speak aloud, listening to my voice as it bounces around the room. "For the price I paid, to be in my own room, with a bed and private toilet," I finish the last part of my thought, just as the pilot's voice comes back over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we hope that you have a pleasant flight with Air Panem, and liftoff will commence shortly," the plane begins to move, as he finishes speaking.

With no one to tell me that I am not allowed to wear an 'over the ear' headset, I pull out my iPod, and let my music lull me to sleep.

I wake up to the sound of knocking at my door. "Clove Evans? This is Katniss with the refreshments cart," the heavy door muffles Katniss' voice, and I can hear the sound of bottles jingling in the background.

Rolling over, I slump out of my bed, my feet padding against the carpet as I walk to open the door. As soon as I open the door, Katniss starts rummaging around the cart. She looks rather uneasy, but I wouldn't know what is bothering her.

"What would you like, Ms. Evans?" Katniss asks, continuing to open drawers and cupboards on the refreshments cart. "Sprite with ice please," I tell her, almost laughing at the sound of being called 'Ms. Evans.' I watch as she continues to shake while looking for the sprite, and decide against it.

Instead, I try to soften the mood, which isn't an easy thing for me to do. "So, what time does dinner come around?" I ask while Katniss adds ice to the container. "Seven," she replies hastily, popping the tab on the soda container. By now she is shaking so badly, that she ends up spilling some of the soda on the cart.

I watch as she pours the rest of the pop, handing it to me so she can start cleaning up. As she starts mopping up the fizzing soda with a rag, my curiosity gets the better of me.

"I know it isn't really my place to ask, but is everything all right?" my voice ends up sounding really calm, which isn't something I'm used to hearing after speaking. Usually I sound intimidating or confident, but not calm.

Katniss looks up from under her bangs and places the rag on the cart. Her quivering lip, shaky hands and worry lines, suddenly seem to be replaced with fear. She takes a deep breath and I can tell by the expression on her face that she is contemplating what she is about to say.

"You are in room number 40," she manages to get out. I nod, wondering what the room I'm staying in has to do with her worrying. "Clove," another shaky breath. "Room number 40 means," she stops again, and I nod, prompting her to continue. "It means, it means that you will be the first to die."

AN: Oh my goodness! Another chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, reviews really mean a lot to me, especially since this is my first fanfiction. ~Kat