Disclaimer: I, permanentwhiplash, do not own Ender's Game.
This will be a series, I think, of one-shots, from different people's point of view.
Ender/Andrew Wiggin
Ender.
That's what they called me.
Ender, Finisher.
But did I really ever finish?
I was just a little boy when they took me…six years old.
And I was the brightest bastard they'd seen since Mazer Rackham.
And what they'd do to me?
They broke me.
Every single value I had ever known…gone.
Down the drain.
They told me later that I killed Bonzo.
Kicked his nose right back into his brain.
I became a commander at what, nine?
Ten?
I could really care less now, it was so long ago.
But they broke me there too.
They gave me the bloody Dragon army, the 'cursed' army.
You know what I did?
I made the greatest army Battle School had ever seen.
And then they broke me again.
They ripped my army apart after putting us up against two armies, whatever they could think of to give ME the disadvantage.
They sent me to Command School, where they stuck me into exile, keeping the other students away from the O Great Andrew Wiggin.
The video games, a few classes here and there, tutored by students I never saw again.
And then…they brought the best Battle School students I had ever known.
They stuck us in a simulator and we fought battle after battle.
We won some, now and then.
And we lost some, now and then.
I was a wreck.
I woke up one night chewing at my fist.
Mazer told me not to become a cannibal and I think I laughed.
But he wasn't joking.
And then that final battle…'oh, it's just your last exam.'
They told me.
Bloody liars.
That whole thing was real.
I killed thousands of Buggers.
And thousands of men died because of me.
I didn't leave because anyone told me to.
I left because I have be me.
Not Ender.
I am Andrew now.
Andrew Wiggin.
Or am I?
Am I anyone?
Or anything?
An odd one-shot...please, tell me what you think...