Ender sat down on his bed, exhausted from that evenings practice. His body ached in a hundred different places and he felt the tug of sleep pulling at his eyelids, but he just couldn't close his eyes. He'd felt this way before; not being able to sleep because he had so much on his mind, eventually managing to doze off as time passed by. However, this case was different- Ender felt restless and anxious, both caused by his recent lack of sleep. He knew that he had to sleep, or else he wouldn't make it through the next day. The new morning would surely bring him another surprise battle, maybe two, although they didn't necessarily count as a surprise anymore.

Closing his eyes, Ender desperately tried to obtain even a wink of sleep. Whenever he came close, he found that a horrific image would disrupt his slumber. Sometimes that image was of Peter staring back at him through the mirror at the End of the World, and sometimes the image of Bonzo lying unconscious upon the bathroom floor flashed across his mind. Ender tossed and turned, finally giving up.

He sat down in front of his desk, turning it on to check the time. It was already 5:30 in the morning. All energy had been drained from him, yet he still couldn't manage even a few minutes of quality sleep. He was absolutely sick of being so tense all the time. Ender understood that this was a Battle School developed for training the elitist of soldiers, but it was frustrating that his army got battles every day; it simply wasn't fair. All that was needed, for both the benefit of him and his soldiers, was a day to catch up. They were all behind on their studies and desperately needed a day of studying and review. He'd be fine with the battle schedule continuing, they'd never had a problem with it, but he knew that a one day break from the game would be more than enough to quench his restlessness. So he decided that before the battle began that morning, he would visit Colonel Graff with an inquiry over the subject.

Graff was almost never in his office, and even less so in the afternoon, so the morning tended to be the best time to reach him. Also, if Ender and the rest of Dragon Army had any hope in passing the several tests they had been assigned tomorrow, it'd be best to get a break to study then. Ender wondered if Graff purposely avoided seeing people except in the mornings when Ender was busy getting ready for battle, but he dismissed the thought. Ender had to be of some worth to Graff, or else he wouldn't have promoted him to Commander at such a young age.

Standing up, Ender walked over to the door with his desk in hand. He stepped outside into the pitch black hallways, illuminating his path with his desk as he went. Through the darkness he found his way to the room filled with his snoring soldiers. He slid inside, cranking the brightness of his desk as far up as it could go. Navigating through the rows of bunk beds, Ender spotted Bean and went over to him. He sat down on Bean's bed and placed the desk on his lap.

"Bean," Ender whispered as he gingerly shook Bean awake. "Bean, wake up."

"Who is it?" Bean asked groggily, looking into the darkness. Ender brought the desk up to his face which illuminated it, causing Bean to perk up a bit. "What is it, Ender? We already got our battle assignment?"

"No, not yet," Ender replied. "We will soon though, so I want everyone to be ready early. I need you to wake up everyone and tell them to start getting ready without injuring themselves in the dark. Shake them awake, yell in their ear, I don't care. If they ask any questions, tell them I ordered it. Alright?"

Bean nodded uneasily and opened his mouth to speak, but instead bit down on his tongue and continued nodding again. It was odd even for Ender to get everyone up before the lights even came on, but Bean had the better sense than to question it.

"Good." Ender said, walking back out of the room.

He went back into his room and placed the desk in the center of the room like a floor lamp. Sure enough when he checked around on the floor there was already a slip of paper that was just barely readable in the darkness; their battle was with Rat Army at 0630. Perfect timing- they must have known he's awake. He took off his uniform and put on his flash suit, just as the lights of the Battle School came to life. He turned off his desk and jogged down the hallway, entering the barracks that contained his army at 0601 to find them already dressed in their suits and ready to go.

"Thanks, Bean." Ender said as the boys filed out of the door and down the corridor, heading towards the battle room.

No one else was awake and if they happened to be, they were only just getting up. He was proud of his soldiers for being able to get prepared so quickly and efficiently, but disappointed in himself that despite so many battles he was simply pushing them harder by taking away some of their valuable sleep time. Ender and his army followed their color path down the hallways while his soldiers chanted and hollered. They too were exhausted, he could see it in their eyes, but even so they were energized and ready to fight. Ender on the other hand had different things on his mind, so he pulled Bean away from the crowd to talk to him.

"Ho, Ender."

"Ho, Bean." The small boy looked up at his commander, awaiting for him to say something. Ender was contemplating how to phrase his words in a way that wouldn't sound suspicious.

"Listen, since we're early, I have a few things I need to do. I want you to get everyone ready, I'll be back before the gates open."

Bean looked at him quizzically, obviously skeptical of his explanation. He let Ender get away with one secret, he wasn't going to act like he wasn't catching onto his act.

"What are you doing?" Bean asked. "And why do you have to do it right before the battle?"

Although Ender did trust Bean, he didn't want to seem weak by saying he was going to ask for a day free of games. Most of all, he didn't want to get Bean's hopes up. Ender looked around nervously; he'd never been good at improvising on the spot.

"I- I have things to attend to." The words fumbled out of his mouth so unnaturally that he silently cursed his lack of ability to lie in spite of himself. Bean looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed in skepticism.

"Please, Bean," Ender pleaded. "Just do it."

Bean sensed Ender's frustration and nodded slowly, almost somberly. Ever since Ender confided in Bean that one night and showed that he was an actual human who was capable of feeling emotion, Bean thought that they became close enough to tell each other things. Not everything, but at least where they were planning to head off to. Bean knew, however, that it was nothing to get upset over. Ender was important and everyone knew that; it was probably some urgent matter of business that needed to be attended to.

"Alright," Bean said.

Ender nodded firmly and watched Bean run to catch up with the group, announcing his temporary leadership as they all walked briskly toward their gate. As soon as each one of them was out of Ender's peripheral vision, he turned and sprinted down a corridor only a few feet behind him. It took him only several minutes to find the room that Colonel Graff stayed in, and once he did he walked up to it and knocked on the door.

No one answered immediately, but he expected as much. Graff was a busy man who probably didn't have time to deal with insolent children attempting to visit him every moment of the day when he had a Battle School to run. He waited for a few seconds, and soon those seconds turned into minutes, and not long after a full ten minutes had went by. Knocking anxiously for the nineteenth or twentieth time- he couldn't keep count- he spoke into the door.

"Colonel Graff?" He called. "It's me, Ender Wiggin."

No answer.

He tried again, gradually raising his voice louder and louder until someone appeared from around the corner.

"Can I help you?" The man asked, his face sullen and irritated. "Are you lost or something?"

"No, I need to see Colonel Graff." Ender said.

The man stared back at him, his answer obviously somewhere along the lines of 'No way' and 'I don't care'. Ender was getting annoyed now; his soldiers were probably waiting for him to arrive.

"Listen, sir, can you please just tell him that Ender Wiggin needs to speak to him?"

The man perked up at the sound of Ender's name, but he simply sighed and crossed his arms. "Colonel Graff is currently unavailable."

"Where is he?" Ender asked, hoping to get a straight forward answer.

"He's in a meeting." The man answered, making it clear with the expression plastered upon his face that he was done being questioned. Ender did not like this man. Even so, he nodded and thanked him, walking slowly in the opposite direction. He checked behind his shoulder as the man turned back around the hallway he came from, and Ender immediately started sprinted towards the center of the Battle School.

There were different conference rooms set up towards the epicenter of the ship- they tended to discuss important matters when meeting there. Ender ran quickly, picking his way through small crowds of people. He knew that he would miss the start of the battle, but he had faith that Bean would handle the situation well. Once he reached the hallway of conference rooms, he got down on his hands and knees. If he was to be seen and suspected of eavesdropping on a top secret meeting, he was sure that the consequences would most likely be severe.

Ever so slowly, he lifted himself up so his head was just barely visible through the small window pane in the door. Surveying the area, he found that it was empty. So he moved onto the next conference room. He looked, found nothing, and quietly moved forward. This process repeated until he reached the very last door, which was open just a crack. Crawling on the ground softly as if the floor was made of thin glass, Ender stared into the room.

There were three men sitting around the long desk; the one who sat at the end of the table that appeared to preside over the meeting was none other than Colonel Graff. They were talking quietly, as if afraid someone might hear them. Ender pressed his ear against the opening and listened intently.

"Only the second death in the history of the school," One of the men sitting a few chairs down from Graff said. He was tall and frail, his skin wrinkled with age.

"At least it wasn't a suicide this time." Said another.

Ender's breath caught in his throat and he struggled not to start coughing or choking. A second death? Ender knew about the first death, the suicide of one of the students, but since when had someone else died here?

Colonel Graff spoke this time. "How is murder better, Major Imbu?"

Ender became very confused—there hadn't been a murder in the school, and if there had been someone would have noticed a missing person by now. Unless it was the death of a careless technician performing maintenance, then they wouldn't have been notified.

"It wasn't a murder, Colonel." The third man sitting farthest away from the others and closest to Ender was speaking now, his voice low and scratchy. "We have it on video from two angles. No one can blame Ender."

Ender? When had he murdered someone? There was no one who he had killed, and most certainly not anyone in Battle School—and that's when it hit him.

Bonzo. They were talking about Bonzo.

Ender thought he'd only hurt him badly; he never would have guessed that the fight would actually kill him. As the words began to settle in and absorb into Ender's mind, the walls around him seemed to close in around him. The lies they had told him about Bonzo going home and reuniting with his family back in Spain circulated through his thoughts.

You were lying to me. Ender said silently. You lied to me and you still haven't told me the truth. He'd now missed most of what the men were saying, but did manage to catch the last sentence the eldest one spoke.

"At least they had the good sense not to tell Ender that the boy died."

Good sense? Ender wanted to scream at the oblivious men sitting before him. Keeping the fact that he had killed an innocent person away from him wasn't at all good sense. It was the opposite of decency; it was pure cruelty. Nothing could be worse than this. And sure enough, Ender had jinxed it.

"It's the second time, too." Graff said, drumming his fingers atop the table.

The third man looked over at the Colonel, his face hard and cold to match his serious deep voice. "They didn't tell him about Stilson, either."

The words hit Ender like a strong blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He bit down on his hand, and then covered his mouth with it. Tears started to form at his eyes and it took everything in his willpower not to start having an emotional break down outside the conference room door.

"The kid is crazy."

"Ender Wiggin isn't a killer. He just wins—thoroughly."

Ender couldn't see who was talking anymore; he had closed his eyes shut tightly. The next person who spoke, however, Ender didn't have to see to identify. Graff's rough voice cut through the silence that had briefly settled over the room.

"If anybody's going to be scared, let it be the buggers."

The buggers! Ender exclaimed silently, anger burning his face. Everything revolves around the buggers… They're more valuable to them than a human life.

Ender knew he had to leave, but a sickening urge to hear what else they had to say consumed him and he stayed put.

"Makes you almost feel sorry for them, knowing Ender's going to be coming after them."

"The only one I feel sorry for is Ender. But not sorry enough to suggest they ought to let up on him."

Is that all they really view me as? Ender thought to himself. Am I just some ruthless killer who serves solely as some valuable national resource? Not to take pity upon, no, but to be used and manipulated into helping destroy another species of living, breathing organisms?

A small cry of despair escaped his mouth and caused the three men to instantaneously turn towards the door. Graff stood up, straightening out his jacket as he did so. He walked slowly, silently towards the door that stood ajar. His feet made no noise as they touched the ground, and in one quick movement he kicked the door open with the bottom of his shoe.

He stepped out into the hallway, glancing around thoroughly. Graff didn't bother to check down the hallways branching off of the corridor, which was lucky for Ender since he'd barely managed to scurry behind the corner of a wall just as Graff emerged from the room. Graff's subject of business with his colleagues was obviously much more important than such a small disturbance, so he turned back towards the two men sitting at the conference table. He cleared his throat, looking each of them in the eye.

"So, where were we, gentlemen?"

And with that, Graff closed the door firmly shut behind him. The very moment that he did so, Ender took off running. He forgot about the game, his friends, the fate of the world… He had to find a way to leave. He didn't deserve to live; a murderous killer wasn't deserving of having others look up to him—not as a human-being, or a leader. He'd never felt so utterly alone before, and knew that no matter what plan of action was taken that he'd eventually crack under pressure one day.

If Ender still had any say left in his life, it would be when and how he goes. He wouldn't be remembered as the boy who was worn down to the point of no return; he'd be known as the boy who had too much thrust upon him at once; he'd be known as the boy who exposed the cruel ways of those who ran the Battle School.

Jogging down a narrow corridor of differently labeled rooms, he yanked on one of the doors leading to the outside of the ship- it didn't budge. Pulling on it with all his strength, Ender began to hyperventilate. He was trapped in a school with people who were bent on destroying him, and he had to find a way to make it so he could never hurt anyone ever again. The only way he could never do that was by leaving- forever. But how could he do that if there was no way out?

Ender gave up on the exit door and continued to run down the seemingly infinite hallway until he finally found a room that seemed to suit his needs. A sign hung crookedly above the door read 'HANDHELD ARTILLERY STORAGE', and next to it he found no fancy protection settings. These days, someone with a pistol gun stood nothing against the modern day advanced weaponry that almost every important official carried around. Locking off a room such as this and marking it with any high security would be laughable.

Ender thought it would be easy; he would just pick the lock and enter the room. Sadly, that's not how things played out. Ender tried ramming himself the door, picking the lock with various objects strewn across the floor, and even attempted to cut an opening with his fingernails. All he was left with was a few cuts from the various sharp objects and a depressing feeling of utter hopelessness. They might not have put an advanced lock on it, but an old fashioned one worked just as good, possibly even better.

If he couldn't even manage to take his own life, how was he expected to save the world from another bugger invasion? He trudged down the long hallways, no one disturbing him as he went. The insanity of what he had just heard didn't die down—if anything, it got worse. He spent a half an hour alone with just his thoughts festering within his mind, growing to an outrageous size. The more Ender contemplated it, the more he realized that Graff and the rest of his manipulative allies and minions in the school weren't there to help him; they were there to break him apart by attrition.

The frustration of the situation truly clawed at his insides and made him begin to bang his head repeatedly against one of the doors, which had a small glass panel build into it. He pressed his face against it, looking into the dimly-lighted room. Different things, ranging from hose nozzles to loose notebook paper, were shoved into a several sets of shelves set up in an extremely unorganized fashion. But that's when he saw it. In the back of the room hung to the wall was a large glass case labeled 'EMERGENCY', its contents being nothing else but a first-aid kit, defibrillator, and relatively sized handgun.

And best of all, the door was unlocked. To be specific, the door was locked at first, but it took Ender one feeble attempt and he managed to pick it open without any effort necessary. He sprinted to the back of the room, admiring the small glass receptacle. He grabbed the nearest thing he could find on the surrounding shelves, which just so happened to be a very heavy hardcover book. Swinging his arms above his head and getting a firm grip on the book, he used all his strength to throw it towards the glass case. It shattered the fragile barricade with ease, sending shards of glass scattering across the room. A few pieces landed in Ender's skin, and blood began to emerge from his body in various places. He didn't notice though, and reached for the handgun.

Ender shoved the pistol into his flash suit, tucking it under his arm so that no one would notice the bulge in his clothing. He exited the small room and closed the door quietly behind him, walking down the hallway with a brisk pace. More and more people started to appear throughout the halls, and Ender knew that it was almost time for breakfast. He noticed up ahead that there was a large group of students walking down the hall perpendicular from him. It took Ender only a couple of seconds to realize that the people filing out of the battle room before him were members of his own army.

They were all smiling and playfully punching each other, their expressions making it obvious that they had won their battle. He could see Bean waving at him from far away, but Ender had no intention on talking to anyone. Ender was going to a secluded area to carry out what he had to do; if anyone tried to talk an answer out of him, he might just tell them the truth, and nothing would ever be the same again.

"Ho, Ender!" Bean called. "We won! It was so cool; it's too bad you missed it. Even though the room had barely any lighting, Rat Army had nothing on—wait, where are you going? Breakfast is this way…"

Ender pushed Bean, who was innocently pointing his finger towards the direction of the mess hall, out of the way, his thoughts becoming fragmented and cloudy.

"Ender!" Bean shouted after him. "Are you okay?"

Ender didn't answer, he only kept running. There was nothing that would stop him now; he was going through with this, and he was going through with it now. The sound of footsteps behind him made Ender suddenly stop in his tracks. Bean skidded to a halt behind him, practically knocking Ender over. Bean's eyes were wide with fear as Ender turned around, his face red and contorted in a mix of sorrow and frustration.

"Don't- follow- me." Ender breathed, gasping for breath in-between words.

With that, Ender whirled around and began to sprint down the hallway again. Bean watched him go with a strong urge to go against what he ordered and follow him, but instead thought better of it. Whatever was going on, Bean knew that Ender had it under control, he always did- but he was wrong.

Ender kept sprinting down the halls, jostling people side to side as he went. There was no one Ender could talk to about what he'd just heard. Knowing that he killed two innocent human beings made him sick to his stomach; he thought he had only gravely injured them. Never before had Ender been a murder of two people… and children, for that matter. His problem was the he wanted to win all future battles, and in doing so he had prevented them all together. If anyone found out, they would never look at him the same way again. He wouldn't be viewed as Ender: the innocent child turned courageous leader. He'd be Ender: the monstrous killer who is argued to have acted in self-defense but is really just a ruthless murderer.

He stopped running and placed his hands on his knees, gasping to catch his breath. Surveying his surroundings he realized he was standing directly in the middle of an empty, circle shaped central point that 5 different hallways branched off of. He was careful to check to make sure no one was coming, and then he removed the gun from under his clothes. Lifting it up to the side of his head, the chilling metal made him cringe as it made contact with his skin. He placed his finger on the cool trigger, closing his eyes.

Joyous memories cascaded through his mind- images of Alai whispering "Salaam" into his ear, of Petra teaching him how to shoot, of Dink being his friend when no one else would, of Bean comforting him when he most needed it, and even of Valentine, whom he hadn't thought about in a while, hugging Ender after Peter had hurt him.

And that's what triggered the bad memories.

Every time Peter tackled him or made fun of him; every time he was manipulated and lied to; every time he'd killed an innocent person. Images of death and destruction he caused as he drowned the wolf children in the riverbed and clawed deep into the Giant's eye socket. It overwhelmed and scared him that there were more bad memories than good ones circulating through his mind.

This is it. Ender thought to himself as his finger tightened around the trigger. They can't control me anymore.

Once he was gone, they couldn't torture him any longer. He silently said his goodbyes to the only people he ever truly cared about and was about to pull the trigger when a voice that at first he thought came from God called out to him. The sound was barely audible, the voice soft spoken, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

"Ender?" The voice spoke. "What are you doing?"

Ender knew who the voice belonged to; it was Dink. And sure enough as he opened his eyes, Dink stood before him, his expression a mix of terror and concern. Ender stared at him blankly, not planning to stop what he was doing. It wasn't his intention to have someone witness his suicide, but rather be found already deceased. However, either way was fine with him. Dink outstretched his arms and walked towards Ender slowly like one would when trying to calm a cornered animal.

"Ender," He repeated. "Please, put the gun down."

Ender's face was inscrutable.

"People care about you, Ender. I know it doesn't seem like it, but they do. There- there is so much more left to do in your life. You can't kill yourself. You can't do this."

Upon hearing these words, something inside Ender suddenly snapped. Any self-control he once had disappeared and he began to yell out words before he could even process them.

"Can't do this to who? To the world who needs a child to save them from disaster? To the teachers with their sick and twisted minds? To you and your needs? What about my needs? Why does everything revolve around everyone but me? No one can tell me what I can or cannot do. No one can guide me in the right way anymore. No one cares about what happens to me, it's all about everyone else. I don't care, I never did. I want to die!"

A few people began to emerge from doors down the hall and slowly walked toward the commotion.

"People depend on you, Ender." Dink said softly. "They need you. We need you."

"Well I don't need you. If you think it's okay to crush me with battles every day, twice a day, and isolate me as an experiment, I won't help you. I'm just a test subject! I can't take it anymore! Everything's caving in around me and I-" Ender's words caught in his throat and he felt a single tear begin to form in the corner of his eye. Weakness was the one thing he could not show, or Dink would intend upon trying to console him, and Ender would thusly give in. Ender didn't want to give in, so he wiped the tear from his face and swallowed any back any others. Dink took another step towards him, but Ender shrunk back.

I can't trust anyone, Ender said silently. I can't trust you anymore. You're my friend and I can't trust you.

"Ender, I need you to give me the gun." Ender shook his head. He could tell that Dink was getting frustrated, but he still understood the delicacy of the situation.

"Hand over the gun, Ender. You don't want this."

"I do want this."

Ender breathed sharply, suddenly, and he felt a dull stab of pain in his chest. Onlookers had gathered in the hallways branching off the small central circle. No one dared to say anything, as if the oxygen they breathed was so fragile that the slightest of disturbances would shatter it into a million pieces. Ender backed up until he was flat against the smooth metal wall. He realized that trying to run wouldn't get him anywhere; other students were blocking all the exits.

"Come on, Ender." Dink said softly. "Just give me the gun. Just give me the gun and this will all get better. Everything will be okay if you just give me the gun."

The offer was so tempting that Ender's mouth almost watered at the thought. And that's why he knew it wasn't true, because it was too good to be. Giving Dink the gun wouldn't make things better... It would only make everything worse.

So when Dink lunged to grab the gun out of his hands, Ender brought the gun across Dink's face. Ender felt the hard metal connect with his cheek and a loud cracking sound emitted from inside his mouth. Dink's hands instinctively shot up to try to stop the blood beginning to drip off his chin. Dink groaned in pain as he turned away and spit out a glob of blood. A small object clattered across the floor as he did so- it was a tooth.

"Dink," Ender was on the verge of tears again. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone. "I didn't mean to-" He didn't get to finish his apology.

Dink rushed him and pinned him against the wall, not out of anger but as a distraction. Ender's neck snapped backwards and his head banged against the steel plating. Yelping in pain, he almost didn't notice that Dink had ripped the gun out of his hands. Infuriated, Ender stopped him before he could dart down the hallway by grabbing his wrist. The gun flew out of his hands and landed on the opposite end of the room. Ender was about to run towards it when Bean and Alai both emerged from opposite ends of the crowd.

Alai took a few moments to survey the situation, but Bean immediately jumped onto Ender's back. Bean began to wrap his arms around Ender's neck to balance himself, but instead Ender fell to the ground, taking Bean along with him. Alai ran over to pry Ender away but slipped and instead knocked him to the floor. Ender got up and felt a hand grab his ankle as he took a step forward. He fell onto the cold, hard ground and felt a gash on his chin begin to ooze blood.

With both hands firmly on the floor, Ender shoved his foot backwards and made contact with the face of whoever was grabbing him. Standing up he saw that Alai was doubled over in pain, clutching his bleeding nose. Ender turned away, wanting to end everything right then and there.

Lots of people had now crowded around to watch, the shock of what was happening rooting them to the spot. The other members of Dragon army were perhaps the most shocked of all. They all viewed Ender as a strong, emotionless leader who was always composed and knew how to handle situations calmly. They knew Ender was under a lot of pressure recently, but never would they have guessed that his state of mind had deteriorated so much. Now they knew that Ender, too, was a human, and every human had a breaking point.

Looking around, Ender noticed that none of the bystanders were teachers, but that didn't surprise Ender; they never cared about him anyway.

Bean jumped onto his back again, but this time Ender was ready; he had his feet planted firmly on the ground.

"Ender, don't hurt yourself." Bean urged quietly into his ear. "Please."

No, Ender said silently. I can't do this anymore.

"No!" He wasn't silent this time, and in anger he had flung Bean to the floor. Bean stumbled but managed to catch himself. He grabbed Ender by the wrists, nearly shoving him to the floor. As he attempted to break free, Bean struggled to a good grip on Ender's writhing hands. Bean tilted his head up and loosened his grip as he made eye contact with Ender.

"Ender. We care about you. Really, we do."

It was a lie. Ender told himself. They were lying. But what if they weren't lying, what if they really did care about me?

"Ender, listen to me. I can take you back to your room and you can rest. Everything will get better. I promise."

Nothing will ever get better. I knew I was right. He's lying. Just like Dink. They make fake promises they can never keep. I thought you were different, Bean, but you're just like everyone else.

Bean put his hands up in defense just as Ender's fist swung at his face, but he wasn't quick enough. Ender's knuckles connected with Bean's jaw and made contact with such strong force that is sent him sprawling across the floor. Bean laid there, unmoving, a heap of only a small boy lying on the floor.

I'm a monster. Ender told himself. I hate myself and I'm a monster.

He turned around and saw the small pistol lying in the corner. Running towards it, he felt as though happiness finally wasn't a remote and far away feeling anymore. His hand outstretched as he dove forward, he was so close to escaping all of the horrors in his life that the faintest of smiles spread across his face.

And then Petra tackled him to the ground.

Ender hadn't noticed her in the crowd; she had probably just arrived. She picked him up and pinned him against the wall by pressing her elbows against his upper arms. His feet dangled above the ground and he tried, to no avail, to wiggle out of her reach. The shards of glass still in his skin from earlier dug deeper into him as he struggled against her overwhelming strength. Ender cried out in pain.

"What are you doing, Ender?" She yelled harshly, although her eyes showed dire concern. Ender knew it was all a game, and now she was part of it. No one really cared about him. Everyone was out to kill him with good intentions and reasons, but he knew that he could only win by killing himself. So as Petra loosened her grip and opened her mouth to speak again, Ender slapped her with the back of his hand.

She didn't put her hand up to where he hit her, but she did let go of him. He didn't react fast enough to be able to catch himself, so his legs hit the surface with a loud crack and a sickening pain. Seconds passed and she simply stared down at the floor. And then her eyes met his, and the only thing they showed was disappointment.

I am Bonzo. He told himself. I am an evil psychopath who craves honor. And there is no way to achieve honor. I've lost every ounce of dignity and respect left within myself. I've been utterly and completely drained of all hope to live.

And that's when he began to cry.

He sunk to the floor as he balled his eyes out and didn't care that the entire school was watching him. The only friends he had left were injured and hurt all because of him. There was no person left that could make him ever become the oblivious person he once was. He'd never really been a good person; he'd always been a killer... It had only taken him this long to figure it out.

He ran his hands through his hair and pulled his knees up to his chin. Weeping louder than he ever had before, a strong sense of sorrow settled over the room. His surroundings began to spin around him and the eyes of the onlookers bored into his soul. He'd hurt people and the only relationships he had more than ever before. He no longer wanted to kill himself; that would be too easy, too cowardly. He wanted to torture himself by living each day knowing that he would always be alone.

Ender stood up, his limbs almost giving out underneath him, and staggered over to a random exit. He shoved through the crowd and down the halls without any protest from the horrified viewers, pushing people aside as he did. Tears streamed down his face and blurred his vision, making him practically blind. No one attempted to stop him or pull him to the side, and even if they'd tried he wouldn't have stopped.

Jogging turned to sprinting and not long after he was bounding down the corridors at top speed. He turned corners left and right and just kept running until he came to a dead end. The only sounds he could hear were his own panting echoing against the walls. A dim light bulb dangling above him provided barely any illumination as it flickered and struggled to cling to life.

It's like me. Ender said to himself.

Ender realized that he only had no idea where he was. Looking behind him, all he saw was a long hallway. There were no passages leading off of it, only barren walls as far as the eye could see. The blood of his friends was still warm on his knuckles. He heard Peter's voice in his head, congratulating him and laughing maniacally. The insanity of it all ate away at him with each moment the voice carried on. This lugged on for what felt like hours, the laughter and horrific images of the Mind Game reappearing in his head and fogging up his ratiocination. Finally, Ender screamed at the top of his lungs until his voice gave out, and fell to floor, sobbing.