This story correlates with the fanfic:
Shadow over the sunrise
She needed the light. She needed to get out of this dark tunnel of misery that clouded her mind and shadowed her every move, her every thought. It was toxic, this depression; the grief seeping out from under her bed, streaming through the water and winding its malevolent way through the kitchen, her safe space. Since she was little she had always loved to cook and bake but now nothing felt right. Everything tasted of ashes and her tears were a rivulet that threatened to poison her, drown her in its torrid depths. Those well-worn cookbooks had been ruined forever by the splashes of those tears, her mother's handwriting marking the pages, neat as Rosie's was erratic. The longer she sat there trying to recall it, the dimmer it was. That careful hand with the worn nails, the reddened knuckles and her wedding ring. That ring was hers now. But Rosie didn't want to look at it. At that moment in time she couldn't think past that day, the next or the next for a very long time. Stowing it away in a brown velvet pouch, she ignored the idea of what the ring represented. Marriage was so far from her mind.
She hadn't seen a way out of the darkness and had assumed it was never-ending. It had been a year. But slowly, as the months had rolled around, the earth and sky warmed and the days became longer again. The sunshine inched its calm way through her curtains and dried her morning tears. Each day it would persistently do so and she began to think that maybe it didn't have to be permanent. That the haze could lift from her soul and she could start to see things in a clearer light. She felt selfish, lingering by the travel agents window and looking at the poster that advertised instant sunshine. A Greek holiday. She'd only ever been abroad once, to France. She longed for something new, a fresh breeze to lift her off her feet and let her soar. Just for a bit. She wanted to run away from it all yet she knew her mother was never far from her thoughts and there was no escaping it. She had to open the door and see for herself.
She booked it. She didn't know if it was respectable but she did it anyway. It felt like…smashing something horrendously ugly and feeling guilty about it but then the relief would take over like a cooling potion. Squashing down the guilt that threatened to suffocate her, she got her ticket and soon enough she was on that plane, in a window seat, all the better to see with. Her first time on a plane. To see the landscape unfold and the sunrise unfurl itself all over the sky like paint on a brush, to smell the herbs and honey in the air. This could heal her heart. That first forkful of watermelon and feta tasted like sunshine and the sea.
Once the food started tasting good again, she knew she was over the worst. She was making it through to the other side. She felt hopeful that something would happen. Yes, she was sure of it. Something exciting was going to happen and she couldn't miss it.
She had no idea how much it would change her life.