Hi everyone. I decided to try out a competition on the forum Starvation. This is my first one, so tell me what I'm doing wrong or right! The prompt is: reality is wrong, dreams are for real. I hope I do it right, but when I heard this I immediately thought of Annie and how she deserved more of a story. This story takes place after Mocking Jay, except that Finnick and Annie never had a son and Finnick is still alive.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Hunger Games. That credit goes to Suzanne Collins

(Ten Years Ago)

My screams wouldn't make it stop. No matter how much I begged, no matter how much I pleaded, the blood never stopped flowing. The wounds didn't heal with my tears.

He stood above me, laughing at my pain. He grinned psychotically as he lifted the knife again. I tried to pull away again, tried to push him away. He laughed at my feeble efforts, sending a chill through me.

He lifted the knife ever so slowly and then brought it down again on my face. Tracing it gently around my mouth, he smiled. He pushed it down, ever so slowly, drawing the tiniest bit of blood. I felt the tears fall involuntarily down my face, mixing with the red blood. The two dripped off me showing the pain and the suffering.

The knife came down slowly on my cheek, cutting into my flesh on its journey downwards. The pain was equal to no other pain I had felt, almost making me black out. But blacking out would be a gift that was not given to me.

When the knife was thoroughly lodged in my face, he put both hands on it and twisted. Again the pain came to a point at which I begged for death. However, no amount of begging or crying would ever make this lunatic stop.

He pulled the blade out of my face ever so slowly. His smile taunted me and he ran the blade across my face again, drawing the tiniest drops of blood.

"Come on Annie, you're making this too easy. I thought you were a victor of the Hunger Games. I thought you would fight a little. Come on Annie, try to stop me." His taunting words were like nails on a chalkboard.

I cringed a little but stopped thrashing because my struggling and fear was what he wanted. He wanted to laugh as I tried to get away.

"H-H-How can I fight you when you have me tied down? A-A-Are you sc-scared that if you untie me, I'll win? You're a coward an-an-and if I wasn't tied down I would kick your ass." I said shakily. I didn't usually stutter, but I guess it came with the pain.

"Wrong answer sweetheart," he replied angrily. He grabbed another knife off a metal table that was next to him and thrust it towards my face. It lingered right before my eyes, showing off its dull edge.

"GET THE HELL OFF OF HER YOU BASTARD!" I heard a voice scream. I whipped my head around to see who the voice belonged to. I felt the man in front of me get thrown off the bed, as another man collided with him.

I smiled. Someone had heard me. Someone had come to save me. I tried to look down to where the two men were fighting, but I was tied to the bed.

Finally a head came up and it wasn't the evil man from before. He smiled at me, and it wasn't a smile that made you cringe, but one that made you melt. His reassuring smile added to his perfectly good looks. He had eyes that were as green as the sea. His perfectly tan muscles added to a body that any guy in the world would die for.

He came cautiously closer to me and I let him. He moved over to the bed frame and untied my hands and arms. He was careful not to look directly at me. He respected my privacy, allowing me to get dressed, unlike the man before.

"I'm so very sorry for not getting here in time. I can see you need to go to the hospital right away. I'll bring you there," he said with a sheepish smile.

I smiled at this. He was a true gentleman, if I'd ever seen one. He ran over and scooped me up in his arms. I cringed at the touch not because he was touching me, but because he touched a wound. His green eyes were filled with sympathy and he ran out of the room.

With me in his arms, he ran down the streets, never tiring until we finally reached the hospital. I started fading from the world. The last thing I saw was his bronze hair as he frantically got a doctor.

When I finally came to, I was laying on a bed in a white hospital robe. I looked down at my arms and saw more scars. That man tried to take things from me, but he couldn't hurt me any more. How can you take something that's already been taken? He tried to strip my dignity from me. Well, he was too late. The Hunger Games took it all away before he ever could.

I looked up from my bed to see President Snow in all his glory. He smiled at me and came over to my bed. I cringed as he came closer. He leaned down so that his face was in front of mine.

"Remember Annie not to tell a single soul. The deal is an easy one; you rent your body to people and I don't kill a family member. As you already know, the people you rent it to are allowed to treat you in any way. I'm terribly sorry that this man likes it rough. But since you did not tell anyone and did not fight him your mother is safe." His breath smelt like blood on my skin. He smiled and moved out of the room. I could hear a commotion going on outside the door. People were yelling and something was knocked over.

Finally my door burst open, and in came the man that had saved me. He was young, no older then twenty. I smiled at him as he came over to the bed. His bronze hair was soft and on an impulse I reached out to touch it. There was something familiar about his perfect face. I'd seen him before somewhere.

"I've been through it too… the renting. It's absolutely horrible. But from now on, I'll make sure no one hurts you. I'll make sure not another man lays a hand on your perfect face." He said softly, touching my cheek.

He was so kind, but mistaken. I didn't have a perfect face or a perfect body. I was covered with scars from a blade. But how did he go through the renting if he wasn't a victor?

"My name is Finnick Odair." He said. I knew that I had known him from somewhere. He was the famous Finnick Odair, The very symbol of the Hunger Games.

"I'm Annie Cresta." I replied. He nodded, "I know who you are." I smiled at him. He had called me beautiful. "You were in the Hunger Games." I stated. He frowned at this. "As were you, but please know I hate the Hunger Games. But it's ok, they're all over now. We're not in them anymore." He said smiling.

And that's were he was wrong. We were still very much in the hunger Games. I will always, forever be in the Hunger Games. "No it's never over. The Hunger Games never end for you." I replied.

(Present day.)

Crazy. That is how the world saw me - the crazy girl from the hunger games. The one who was too weak to fight after her partner died. The one who's insane. Crazy. That's what they all call me. But none of them know.

They don't go through what I do, every second of every day. They don't see someone get beheaded every time they close their eyes. They don't get 'rented' to people.

No one knows the hell I've gone through. The things I've seen could make your toes curl. If you heard the things that I've heard you'd cringe for weeks. If you had had to do the things I've done you'd probably kill yourself from guilt.

The world is against me, but none of them even know why. Not one person can see what I see. Well that is not entirely true. Finnick Odair, the love of my life, can somewhat relate.

He too went through the horror of the Hunger Games. He too gets rented to people who don't give a damn about him. He saw his mother die before his very eyes.

Finnick went through hell, but it's over for him now. He says that when he sees me, everything about the Games slips away and he's home. He says that when he looks at me he can forget about it all and focus on how much he loves me.

I wasn't given that gift. Yes I loved Finnick more than anything in the world, but to this very day I am still in the Hunger Games. My head is still in that arena. When I hear a noise I reach for a knife and drop to the floor.

My mind never truly left that horrid arena. I'm always ready to fight, to kill. My name is Annie Cresta, victor of the 70th hunger games. That's how I'm introduced to people. Except they don't understand that I never won the Hunger Games. I didn't really win, nor can I ever win.

Run. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I took off through the woods. The careers followed me, laughing. I turned to see my partner when it happened. The girl from two chucked an axe. Everything started moving slower as the axe flew towards him. It took off his head in one swift motion.

I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the horrible sound of his body falling to the floor. It made a thud that echoed through me. I screamed like I had never screamed before.

And when the cannon boomed, I couldn't believe it. How had this happened? Not just the death of this boy, but how had this happened? How did a government form based on killing children.

I kept running to escape the careers and when I finally did I found a nice cave and stayed there. I covered my ears to escape the sounds. I covered my arms to escape the cold. But I could never escape the images. Even when I covered my eyes, I saw the axe take off his head. I saw the way he looked at me right before it happened. I saw the head rolling away, the way the lips still formed a perfect circle. A silent scream stayed on his lips. Every time I saw the images I couldn't help but scream, and scream, and scream.

"ANNIE STOP!" I opened my eyes and saw Finnick above me. His beautiful green eyes were worried. He had my arms pinned down. But he did that out of love. He did it so I wouldn't hurt myself.

I could hear a scream of pain. The scream was bloodcurdling. It made me cringe and I willed the screamer to stop.

"Annie please stop screaming, you're ok now." Finnick said. I was the one screaming? I closed my mouth quickly. Why had I been screaming? Oh yes the Hunger Games. The arena. Was I still in the arena? Was this really Finnick?

I began screaming again and thrashing trying to get the fake Finnick off of me. He was surely a mutt, coming to kill me. The capitol, the careers: they were all trying to kill me.

"Annie no, please stop, you're ok now. Annie you're safe." He said desperately, trying to reassure me. He was lying I was still in the arena he was trying to kill me. "It was just a dream Annie this is reality." He said.

"In your dream you're in the hunger Games, right? I know, Annie I've had that dream too. It's scary, but it's not true. This is reality Annie and reality is ok, it's right, you're safe here." He said.

I shook my head crying. Maybe this was the real Finnick? "But how could I know? How could I know that reality isn't wrong and the dreams aren't real? How could I know that this isn't a dream right now? How could I know that you're not trying to kill me? HOW COULD I KNOW?" I screamed at him.

I saw the tears brim in his eyes. He didn't know either, he still doesn't know.

"Reality is wrong, the dreams are real! I'm still in the hunger Games; I'm in them right now." I said. I tried to fling him off me again. The tears ran down my face.

I thrashed to get him off me but he didn't move. His tears hit my face and mixed with mine. They both dripped off my face, as they had many times before.

"Annie please believe me. If you love me at all, listen to me, just this once. The Hunger Games are over. You are no longer in them. We don't live that way anymore. We live in a democracy. Remember the rebellion? Annie you are no longer in the Hunger Games. THEY ARE OVER ANNIE!" he said slipping off of me.

I held my head in my hands and cried. I slipped off the bed and sat there on the floor. He was wrong, they all were. The crazy Annie Cresta never left the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games will never end.