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On the cold bedroom floor, the teddy bear lies motionless, soaked with piss and silent. Its soft fabric has absorbed more than just moisture—a trace of neglect, a heavy silence that seems to fill the entire room. The light falls diffusely on its small form, accentuating the contrast between its fragility and the hardness of the surface on which it was left. There is no movement, just an inert presence, charged with an untold story, in which the humiliation becomes almost tangible.