Ryan Phelps fell through the window onto the floor, The room was dark as it was suppose to be, but his entrance was less triumphant than it should have been. Ryan lay there for a moment breathing heavily; the event of the evening passing through his mind. Wincing in pain and he inhaled, he knew that at least one of his ribs must of been cracked at the very least. It wouldn’t have surprised him at all if they weren’t broken. He could feel dried blood on his face as well as his knuckles. He couldn’t be sure if it was all his or not.
He struggled to a sitting up position nursing his body and pressed a button under the window. Quickly and quietly a sliding door sealed and blocking the window view from anyone on the outside. If anyone was looking from the outside the window was now a brick wall. Lights began illuminating the room and the door on the opposite side unlocked. Before Ryan was able to turn in face the door, it burst open, and a small figure with long hair ran in, and embrace Ryan’s beaten body.
Having his head in her lap he looks up at the young face holding him
“Father, are you ok?”