Walking down the road was a normal thing. Taking a bite out of a sandwich, casually strolling with his best friend, and finally arriving home was also normal.

Everything screamed of normality; the weather was unsurprisingly blemishless, the day unsurprisingly tedious, the classes exactly the same as yesterday, and the people as dramatic as ever. On that day, two ordinary students were walking home.

“Why weren’t you in school today man?” One of them asked.

“Wha— Oh! Yeah... I just had some stuff I wanted to be done with is all. I’ll be in tomorrow. So don’t worry, I s’pose...” his friend responded.

Grunting in response, he took another bite of his sandwich. Resisting the urge to vomit once again he trudged on with his friend in tow.

Possibly the only oddity of the day was the sandwich. Every time Ken took a bite, he could feel the bitter taste accumulating at the back of his throat like bile. Unfortunately it was, well,it was supposed to be any way, his favorite sandwich. He didn’t want to throw it away, so he just kept silently eating until the initial disgust passed and it tasted almost normal.

“Hey! Are you coming in?” Ken shouted at his companion as he opened the front door.

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Making an almost half smile, half grimace, his friend turned away and quickly called back to him “No, I- I have something to do, I’ll come back sometime later...” before disappearing down the road, not even once looking back.

Shrugging off his friend’s strangeness, he calmly took off his shoes and started the trek back to his room. Rick had been acting rather odd lately, but it wasn’t really Ken’s place to ask if he didn’t want to talk about it. At some point he always came around and opened up to Ken. That’s just how it went.

Passing by the kitchen, Ken decided to abandon the wrapper of his now finished sandwich. Flipping his phone open, he started checking his emails and messages.

Ken casually walked into the kitchen, making his way around to the trash bin. A small giggle took over as he saw some of the funny messages he got. Dramatic though they might be, his adolescent hormone crazed friends tended to lighten up his day most of the time.

Opening up the trash can, he stood with his phone in one hand and a crumpled sandwich wrapper in the other, a stupid grin stuck on his face.

Then he turned and threw up on the floor next to the sink. He couldn't get to that stupid sink in

time.

Ah! The sink! Why was the sink so far! The stupid sink! he cursed.

Lifting his head back up he realised he’d dropped the wrapper and his cellphone, quickly scrambling to pick them back up.

No, it wasn’t the sink’s fault, he had to acknowledge that the stupid inanimate object had no part in him vomiting on the floor.  

Ken glanced back at the insides of the trash can. Large, thick, chunks of red meat filled the can to the brim. Two almost fake looking pieces of skin in the shape of a mask were laid gently onto two skinless heads that topped the disgusting pile. Just put on well enough so that they could give a passing resemblance to the original owners. Inside that silver can, he could clearly make out his parents’ faces, and of the bloody chunks, Ken could only presume them to be the rest of their bodies.