She mustered up all the strength she had left inside of her to turn onto her side, and pull her legs up against her, until her knees touched the warmth of her chin.
She was crippled by fear as she stared apprehensively out in front of her. Her terrified eyes searched for a shadow that had cruelly infested her home and infected her life only a few minutes earlier.
She could hear the echo of his footsteps as though he was trampling holes through her floor, with each angry step he took. She listened closely as she held her breath to what sounded like a zipper being pulled up.
Holly folded her arms around her belly and was at once unnervingly aware of a warmth that had begun to seep through her hands. As she lay desperate to identify the warm wetness that was flowing through her fingers, she suddenly heard the slamming of what she was sure was her front door.
The violent way in which a door had been battered and shut, echoed down the hall, and right into her bedroom where she was laying motionlessly on the floor, submerged in a pool of her own blood.
She fought desperately to keep her eyes open as they grew heftier with each passing moment and with each breath she struggled to take.
As her tears slowly dribbled from her eyes, Holly lay on her bedroom floor, unable to make a sound and powerless to move. As her blood cascaded around her, the stench in the air began to sicken her. Her body contorted violently when she detected the continuous flow of her own blood all around her.
She could not bear the horrific smell that had begun to immensely frighten and terrorize her. The whiff of death wholly plunged her into a kind of stench she had never inhaled or smelled before.
The waves of panic that had begun to overwhelm her, sent a panic-filled shudder down her spine. She was suddenly cold and sleepy. She moved her toes slightly, and was at once aware of a throbbing, burning sensation in her legs that travelled right down to her feet and into the very tips of her toes.
The warmth that had seeped out below her and soaked into her body, had become ice-cold. She was once again gravely aware of how distressingly weighty and sluggish her eyes had become.
The intense discomfort throughout her body became almost too much to endure, when she could not determine precisely where her soreness was coming from. She could not identify a single segment of her body that was not aching.
She wanted to surrender to the pain; to break down and scream out in agony, but even that seemed almost too excruciating to do.
Her breathing had become severely labored, as she distraughtly gasped for air to fill her lungs. With each breath she fought to take, she was sure that her airways were severely restricting her ability to breath, and that her lungs could no longer take in even a single breath of fresh air.
Her legs were cold and shaking irrepressibly. Holly realized in horror that she was completely naked from the waist down. Again, she tried to move, but she could barely move a finger, or lift an arm.
With every bit of strength left inside of her, she turned onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling, still frantic not to surrender to the darkness that was threatening to overpower her. She turned her head and stared at the calendar that she had hung up behind her door only a few weeks earlier.
“February 12th, 2005 …”
She whispered huskily and knew instinctively that it would be the date permanently marked and inscribed on her tombstone.
“How often didn’t I reach this day in all the years I have lived, and I never knew … I never knew …”
She thought sadly as she lay staring at the date. Her eyes moved forward two days when she noticed the enormous red circle she drew around the 14th,
“Valentine’s day …”
She whispered softly before she slowly turned away from the calendar, and allowed her eyes to rest on the ceiling once again.
She felt a sharp twinge come from her belly. When she could no longer control her agony; when the fear began to cripple and wholly engulf her, she finally cried out in grueling pain when she realized that the warmth was nothing more than her own blood that was seeping from her stomach.
She had, only moments before, been gutted with her own kitchen knife, and left for dead by a man she had known for most of her adulthood.
When Holly closed her eyes one final time, she had no idea that she would wake up to another time, years before to the day before her mother died. Before she married Mark and before Adam snuffed her short life out.
As Holly desperately focuses on saving her mother, she goes back to The Bookstore to find Sarah, hoping for answers from her and from Passage Of Time where she accidentally learned of Sarah’s own journey back in time.