Taking the one i used over on the random spot;

Ke$ha's Mouth

It was on the wall, on the ceiling. In the mirror, looking at him through the window at night. It was always there, a dark and baleful presence. Menacing. Ominous. It was a mouth but it never had anything to say. It just lingered there, lips parted. Not once in the eight days it’d been there, had it ever say anything to Tommy—not joyous nor sinister. All the same the boy expected it to deliver some news, be the news dreadful or wonderful.