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Next was the door on the right, which was the one with the bloodstain leading into it. Jeremy knocked on the door with a small tap, yet again no response. Jeremy hit on it one more time because where else would Rob be? After beating for the second time, I could hear a small moaning sound coming from inside. Jeremy swung open the door, and we saw Rob on the floor, barely moving. Once I got closer, I could see a small puddle of blood next to his head.

He must have tripped and hit his head on the desk and, for the most part, fell unconscious. I turned him over to see if he was alright. He looked okay, but he had his eyes barely open and his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Rob, can you hear me?" I said as I was holding up his head. Rob gave no response, so I asked Jeremy to help me carry him downstairs and out to the truck.

"You grab his legs, and I will grab his shoulders, you'll walk in the front," I said to Jeremy as we began to lift Rob off the ground. We made it to the staircase, and everything was going well for the most part. The first couple of steps were easy, but it felt as if the stairs were getting steeper and steeper. When we finally made it to the bottom, Jeremy and I set Rob down for just a second so that I could inspect Rob's head and make sure he wasn't about to, you know, die. The gash was small, but needed stitches if I had to guess.

I put some cloth around the wound, hoping it would stop the bleeding long enough for us to get him in the truck and back to the jail. We loaded Rob into the back seat while Jeremy and I hopped into the front. When I started driving, I could hear someone else talking other than Jeremy, and I. Rob was still quite loopy, but he was able to say a couple of words. From what I can make out, he said: