He slammed the door short. He was so tired of their ‘criticism’. It pissed him off to no end. He walks over to the desk in his room and sits down. He looks at the bowl full of paper clips sitting on his desk.

Utterly useless. They weren’t being used. In its complete and perfect form. They were still useless. Perfection didn’t always equal complete, but his parents didn’t understand that.

He took a paperclip and he bent it. He bends it into a different shape. He then grabs another one. And another one. He molds the paperclips to his liking before linking them together. There in front of him stood something imperfect. Yet complete.

The system has failed him. The one that promised him success. It was all a lie, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he was trapped, forced to be the puppet controlled by the puppeteer.