My mother was cocooned in a brilliant white shield that surrounded her. She had tears streaming down her face, huddled into herself, but she was safe. The same voice that had cursed earlier, casted a spell at the shield, which easily bounced off it and went up into the air. My father was being held up by his throat from another figure. He was battered and bloodied. I could tell from this distance that he had a broken arm and leg. Rivers of blood were coming from various wounds on his person. 