The Night of Bruises
It was past midnight. Fourteen-year-old Selena was on her knees, scrubbing the cold kitchen floor, her small hands trembling.
Her mother stood in the doorway, eyes blazing, voice sharp as a whip:
"You will not sleep until everything shines!"
Silent tears streamed down Selena’s cheeks. Her body still ached from the beating—purple bruises covered her arms, and scratches lined her shoulders. By the time the clock struck one in the morning, she collapsed, utterly exhausted.
But as her tears blurred her vision, something strange happened. The air thickened, grew colder, and the light around her began to fade. She shut her eyes—and when she opened them again, she was lying in her old bed.
The year was 2019.
