Flip was “sick”.
For a million reasons (or at least three) he needed a day away from school. His friends were all in a different class, his teacher made him do math all day, and, and… he just wanted to stay home and read without anyone telling him what to do.
Besides, maybe he was sick… a little. Maybe there was a scratch in his throat, a cough he hadn’t quite had yet, or a fever that was coming later. Maybe there was something, and if he had anything at all -even a maybe- that meant he had to stay home.
So he told his mom he was sick.
She knew he just wanted to avoid school.
She let him stay home anyway.
It was the right decision. One more day wouldn’t hurt. He had coughed. It was a fake cough, but a cough nonetheless.
Flip faked another cough, mumbled that he would check his temperature.
One more day would be fine.
He thanked his mom as she closed the door to his room.
Except that while neither Flip, nor his mom, knew it, he was sick. Something evil had crept deep inside of him. Even now it was gaining strength in secret, and if it wasn’t stopped soon Flip would die.