Chapter 4: The Bowl
The scene inside the room seared itself into Julian’s retinas, shattering his reality into a million jagged pieces. The room was freezing. Huddled in the corner, illuminated only by the harsh, flickering fluorescent light of the hallway, was Mary Jane.
Her blonde curls were matted and filthy. She wore a tattered, dirty red dress that hung off her emaciated frame. Her bare arms and legs were covered in dark, angry bruises, cuts, and the unmistakable marks of systematic abuse. She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes wide, vacant, and terrified. But it was what lay in front of her that stopped Julian’s heart.
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On the cold, cracked linoleum floor sat a stainless steel dog bowl. Inside was a grotesque mix of raw vegetables and unidentifiable scraps of meat. Scrawled across the side of the bowl in thick, black permanent marker was her name: MARY JANE.
Julian gasped, a sound of pure, strangled agony escaping his throat. The little girl flinched violently at the sound, pressing herself harder against the cold metal cabinets.
