Matthew thought that he was back to being the perfect honors student that everyone thought that he was. After all, he was attempting to practice Chopin's Nocturne No. 2 in D-flat Major, and even he had to admit that he was doing a fairly good job of it. Matthew was nearly finished with the piece, yet somehow, he had not yet missed a single note.

Even after six minutes, as he approached the final bar line, Matthew still had not made a single mistake, and this began to worry him. He slammed on the keyboard, creating an ugly dissonance instead of a lovely, clear, harmonious chord. Then, he started over from the beginning, transposing the piece into D-flat minor in his head. The nocturne transformed in an instant, but it was still too perfect for his taste. It wasn't beautiful yet.

It was his mother's fault, or at least that's what Matthew decided. It was his mother's fault that he couldn't play an imperfect piano without making it sound perfect. It was his mother's fault that he succeeded even when he tried to fail. It was his mother's fault that nobody trusted him when he said that he was falling apart under the pressure.

It was his mother's fault that he was crazy enough to even consider what he was about to do.

Matthew pulled his switchblade out of his backpack and gripped it tightly as he softly knocked on his mother's door. Just as Matthew suspected, she was fast asleep. He opened the door and saw his mother, the woman who had made him into the hopelessly perfect person that he was, curled up in her bed. She didn't even seem to realize that Matthew was in her room at all.

That was when he plunged his knife into her heart.

His mother screamed, but there was no one to hear her. Her ribs made a sickening crunch as Matthew heard her scream suddenly die. Blood sputtered out of her chest and onto her sheets, and before Matthew knew it, his mother was dead.

Matthew tore his knife out of his mother's chest and admired the fresh blood that now coated it. His heart pounded as he grinned and headed upstairs.

It took Matthew a few minutes to find Apartment #406, which made him just a little bit nervous. If he took too long, he would surely get caught. Then again, maybe that didn't matter. Everything had gone a little bit too perfectly so far, and it was about time for something to go wrong.

Matthew carefully knocked on the door to Apartment #406, and as he expected, Jonas answered the door. "Hey Matthew," Jonas said. The two boys stood the awkwardly before Jonas said, "Listen, I just wanted to say..."

Matthew filled with rage. Jonas was supposed to be his friend, but he had betrayed him. If it hadn't been so Jonas, Matthew would have burned down Martin Van Buren High School and gotten away with it without a problem.

Jonas deserved to die.

Matthew lunged towards his former friend with his switchblade. This time, he didn't even have the time to scream before Matthew tore a gaping hole in his throat. Jonas crumpled to the floor as blood trailed towards the staircase.

Matthew couldn't help but feel that Jonas had done this to himself. He was the one who had panicked and called the police when they were at the high school. However, it didn't matter now. Jonas was dead, and Matthew still had one more thing left to do.

Matthew ran down the stairs, painfully aware of the blood dripping down from his knife. Once he reached the third floor, he sprinted back into his apartment. Thankfully, the police weren't there yet, giving Matthew just enough time to complete his final task.

He opened the door to Apartment #312 again and made his way towards the piano. Matthew sat on the piano bench, still holding his switchblade. He pressed the knife to his own skin, ready to face the endless void of death...

"Matthew, what the hell are you doing?" he heard his mother call. "You've played that stupid Chopin piece seven times already, and at this volume, you're going to wake up all of Medallion Court! Go to bed already!"

"Okay, Mother," Matthew said. He played one last chord on the piano before returning to his bedroom. However, something caught his eye as he walked past his mother's room.

There was still blood spattered across the floor.