Sorry, haven't updated any of my stories for soooooooooooo long. To cut a long story short (which I don't usually do but will do now so I can start writing something interesting rather than apologising) I haven't been able to get onto a computer for quite some time.

NOT THE ONLY CAPTIVE HERE, by Katniss.

I lay on my bed, waiting for them to come back. I'm asleep, of course. Well, I'm not, but they don't have to know that.

They always come around now, I think, so where are they? I slowly sit up, the bed creaking beneath me as I do so. It is dark, but not too dark to be able to see quite clearly. An uneaten meal rests on the table in the centre of the room. In the dark, it looks even greyer than it did before. It doesn't look real. I frown for a moment, trying to work out why, and then decide it is just the light. Or lack of light. I look hungrily at it for a minute or two; I know I need to eat, and it's not that I don't want to; I just don't see the point. Not now there's nobody left in my life.

Peeta's dead.

And I'm never talking to Gale again. Never.

Rue? Dead.

Even those stupid, snooty 'friends' I picked up from the Arena in the Quarter Quell, gone.

Prim? Not dead, at least, but may as well be to me.

I gasp out loud.

Didn't say that, didn't think that.

But I put my head between my knees in horror. Why am I so selfish, I wonder? I'm the Mockingjay; does that mean I'm supposed to be selfish? No, no, no. My thoughts are getting tangled up in my brain, I think. I can't think straight, that's it. Nothing's real, nothing matters…

There I go again; I may as well be screaming and hallucinating, I've gone mad.

I just thought my sister may as well be dead if I can't see her. Does that mean the whole world may as well explode if I'm not allowed to see it? What have I become?

'Let it go, Katniss,' I say out loud. Then they come, footsteps.

I scramble back under my covers and try to breathe slowly, steadily, like you do in a deep sleep. I shut my eyes as the door creaks as loud as my bed and I suddenly panic and roll over so the Refuge Keeper won't be able to see my face when he comes in. I strain my ears and listen for voices, but hear none. That means there is only one Refuge Keeper. Good.

He approaches my bed and I hold my breath for a second before realising how stupid that idea was, and let it out as slowly and steadily as I can. It has to seem natural, I know. I'm asleep, I'm asleep. I suddenly realise I've never had to pretend that much in my life before. Like acting, you know. Unless you count all the times I've had to keep my trap shut about what I think about the Capitol. But they're countless times so you wouldn't be able to.

You'd need an Abacus; a really big one. Kids in District One have Abacus's, I know. They help you count.

God, Katniss! I shake myself and make myself concentrate. Why am I thinking about Abacus's?

Crazy.

He's walking away now, just checking. I roll slowly and silently back over, now holding my breath again, pleased so far with my good acting job. The bed creaks and I freeze as he whirls around. Panicking again now, I give a dramatic and sleepy sigh, then bring my thumb to my mouth and get comfortable. Maybe subtleness isn't the way to play it, I decide. I hear the Refuge Keeper snort but turn away. I open my eyes. He is squinting at the meal.

Don't you dare, I think. I need that.

He ambles over and reaches for a grape, then changes his mind and draws his hand back. He heads for the door.

Now, now! I'm going! Well hurry up then! Give me time…No! NOW!

I'm talking to myself, I realise. I stop abruptly and leap out of my bed, grabbing the Refuge Keeper's shoulders and pinning him to the ground. I don't really want to hurt him at all, but as I find myself in action again, something tightens in my chest and I realise how much I miss by bow and arrow. Hunting. Illegally…District 12. And Gale…

Who I will never speak to again. I hate him.

The man lets out a cry and I reach for a bread roll on the table and stuff it into his mouth. I untie the piece of string from around my waist I have considered hanging myself with when I feel really desperate and use it to bind his hands.

'Whaa yuh dung? Op! Op!'

'Shut up,' I tell him, 'It's not my fault I'm doing this and you won't die; you can eat that bread roll. It's only for a night or two. And I'll untie you when I go; it's just you'll run off otherwise.'

He lashes out with his legs and one of them rams into my face. I feel my nose start to bleed and my eye swells up quickly. Groaning, I resist the urge to hit him back and instead retrieve my bedding and shake off the pillow case and sheet. I use them to bind his legs together, then shove him under my bed and cover him with blankets. The key…where's the key?

'Where's the key?' I call. Well, he's not going to answer; you stuffed a bread roll in his mouth. Oh, yeah. Panicking, I roll him back out from the bed and search for it. He grunts and groans until finally I give up and run to the door. There. Typical; he's one of those idiots who leaves the key in the door. I run back to him, push him back under my bed and then sprint back to the door. I'm free, I think. Well, hardly, but free as I've ever been since I left District 12.

The man moans in a very forlorn way. Most would probably have felt sorry for him then but I'm not really much of a decent person.

'Shut up,' I tell him, 'I'm not the only captive here. And neither are you, so cut it out.' Then I lock the door behind me, slide the key into my pocket and run for it.

Ok, so Katniss is a bit crazy, but I'm in a crazy sort of mood. Please R&R

I do not own the Hunger Games! (Wish I did though, that would be awesome!)