The thing on the ceiling

My brother

She just sat there. On the bed with the knife in her hands. The blade pierced her skin as she held it tight. The blood dripped onto the cream rug staining it a crimson red. As she sat there the thing crawled across the ceiling, leaving a sticky trail of tar behind it. It stopped and smiled at her, the tar dripping from its mouth. The house was silent, other than the occasional noise of the things suckers and the noise from outside. The thing continued to smile at her, not making a noise. She just sat still.  Oblivious of the outside world and the pain searing threw her arm. The light switched on. She turned to look at the figure standing in the doorway. He just stood there, helpless. Frozen by the sight of the thing on the ceiling. Suddenly she was down on him like a monster. Knocking him off his feet, plunging the knife deep into his upper torso. The snap of his ribs vibrated around the house. He lay still. His blood pooling next to him. The horror frozen on his face. The thing on the ceiling just kept smiling. Wider and wider. His eyes penetrating her soul, telling her to do it again.