Afterglow

By Madaline

"Stacy Gellar is a young woman- coming of age. She discovers that she is

half human, half ghost on her journey to figure out where she fits in her

life. She winds up on a whirlwind of an adventure where she fights ghosts,

befriends those she least expects, all while being empathetic. She even

stumbles across a possible, b

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Sep 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9789361725258

Book preview

Loner

S

tacy Gellar is a twenty one year old, living in Casper. She's got olive skin, an hourglass figure and hazel green eyes. Her eyes are a combined swirl of green blending into blue. She often got compliments on her pretty eyes. Her curls were thick, the color of chestnut, falling to the tops of her.

            She yawns, stretching her limbs. She may seem beautiful to some, but she had her own physical health issues. She uses one hand to push herself up to stare at her medium sized, bland boring bedroom. Her pen pal as well as her best friend would be coming to stay with her. Sometimes– she grew excited about the idea, but other times she frowned upon it.

            Her bedroom was kept clean with dark wooden flooring, eggshell white walls. A small gray television sat on a light oak stand in front of two, green large rectangular windows. The twin sized bed Stacy slept on was pushed up against the wall in front of the windows located by the closet door. Her oak dresser sat right at the foot of her bed with tangled, plain sheets. The very sheets she was currently embroiled in.

          She has scoliosis which would get worse even if she were to have surgery. She barely got by since the death of her mother. Her older sister– Sylvia Gellar had been pretty much raising Stacy since she was thirteen. Her dark pink, full, plump lips were pursed as she eyed her bedroom. She lives in a small town where all that really happened were festivals– the Azalea and the Blue Crab festivals.

        Stacy rubs her hazel eyes. She was trying to get herself together. She knew she shouldn't drink coffee due to how it didn't help her heart. It didn't help with the anxiety she had. Her veins were on prominent display so it made her susceptible to more things.

        She didn't think she was living the high life. She grumbled to herself all the while shoving her covers from her twisted, s-shaped body. She wore a gray tank top with long, blue pajama bottoms. Her clothes usually fit her body, making her gag. She went in search of the pair of clothing she would need for the day.

        The house she lived in consisted of four bedrooms with two bathrooms. It had an attic. The outside had a homemade garage with a rather large yard. The house was made of chipped, white brick with green window sills. It was the house Stacy Gellar along with her siblings– Sylvia, Sam and Silas grew up in.

        Stacy's thick, chestnut brown curls were frizzy– falling into her face. She kept her clothes in her dresser rather than the closest. She may be an adult, but adults had fears. She would pick out an outfit then go make a pot of coffee. All she had to do was exit her bedroom, straight into the hallway where the kitchen was across from her.

          She would need to take a right, leading into the dining room in front of the master bedroom in order to get to the kitchen. She found her clothes for the day, placed them on top of the dresser. As soon as she had some coffee– she could get to work putting her space and herself in order. She sighed, placing her hand on the doorknob twisting it to turn the damn thing. Her hazel green eyes quickly averted to the left, stopping at the dark, open door of the bedroom.

          She was afraid of the dark as well as what was in the dark. Her eyes went wide as she eyed the darkness. She never could understand why. Maybe, because…she's a human with emotion? She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

          It's too early in the morning to think about what she's seen in the dark or mid-light before. She rolled her eyes, closing her bedroom door upon her exit. Her eyes briefly flickered from the other two bedroom doors down the hall.

          The attic door was between the two bedroom doors at the back of the house, at the end. The bathroom for everyone to use aside from the bathroom in the master bedroom was close to the exit of the hall.

          Stacy forces herself to head into the kitchen. A kitchen with eggshell yellow walls and tiny little white flowers. She scoffed at the yellow tile flooring. She didn't mind the dark purple carpet in every part of the house except for the bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchen. Her day already started off with her annoyance levels off the charts.

          Her pen pal was coming to stay with her since her sister was living in the house on the left on the corner of said street. Her sister had owned her own house for ages. Their mother made sure that none of them lived a good life only for it to backfire. So, the pen pal of Stacy Gellar was coming to stay with her. Her older brother was off at Casper University, having taken up art.

          Her other, younger brother who was twenty also went to college for video game designing. She found it funny how the college was made of beige brick, an enormous, spacious campus located on the outskirts of the town. She had never been, wanting to go some day. She just didn't think her time was current. Her older brother was five years older whereas her pen pal was a year older.

        She never fit into the crowd her own age. So, why should she try, now? She dabbled in writing citing it as her passion yet she didn't always want to write. If she could she would do something different. She had begun the brewing process of the coffee, watching it drip.

          Stacy was leaning on the sleek, marble isle of the counter. She could have pulled out a hickory chair to plop into only she would have to lift herself up to sit. She went to pull out a mug of coffee, casting a glance at the time. Her eyebrow rose as her eyes stumbled across the time…was it really 8:30 in the morning?

          She was used to sleeping in late after a long night of no sleep. She was someone with a rough case of insomnia. Even when she did sleep, she got maybe a few minutes of shut eye. She abandoned her coffee, rushing past the dark oak dining table with the dining chairs. She needed to get her ass ready for the day.

          Nor did she own a donkey. Her mind wandered to Shrek only for Stacy to scold herself. She lost focus easily while being slow at processing even the things she did understand. Her brain was behind more than she would like it to be. She got her outfit for the day, scurrying into the bathroom down the hall.

          A pang of guilt and sadness bundled into one on her way into the bathroom. The yearning for a better, less lonely life was hard to come by. She briefly eyed the bedrooms at the end of the hall. Her siblings used to be spread out with her living in the house. Her brothers used to sleep at the back.

          Now, it was an empty, wasted space. An empty space that fucked with her mind only to haunt her heart. Still, she knew things could be worse. She went to the soft blue and white tile floor bathroom with the same plain Jane walls. She didn't mind it as she got the water on the proper settings.

          She found the toilet, bathtub with a shower rolled into one, and the sink with a mirror above it to all be the same white color. The mother she was raised by was sure to lead a simple, dull life compared to the budding writer. She no sooner got the water running than she was in it showering. Did she shower or brush her teeth daily? She couldn't afford to do as rich people did.

          Stacy found she lived her best life. She shampoo-ed her hair, forgetting the conditioner only to scrub her body last. She rather felt comfortable using her hands for washing herself. She didn't like the feel of a washcloth or anything as such touching her skin. It made her highly uncomfortable, making her want to disappear into herself forever.

          She enjoyed the relaxation the act of showering brought her. She tried her best not to take ages in the bathroom. She stepped out, drying off. After drying off, she pulled on a dark blue bra with black panty briefs. She proceeded to stick her legs in either pants of her dark, blue, snug fitting jeans.

        They were like bell-bottoms. She would have to roll them into cuffs to keep the jeans from being ruined by the ground. Her outfits varied, depending on her mood as well as what her body could deal with. She tugged on a light orange, v-neck tee shirt followed by making sure she looked alright. When she finished up, her nerves heightened tenfold.

          Would Stacy Gellar be okay? It was a question she kept silently asking herself as she left the bathroom. She went to her bedroom, quick to slip on short, ankle socks followed by a pair of burgundy zip up boots. The boots could be laced up, reminding the young woman of a pirate. One of the many things she liked.

          Loud rapping on the door in the kitchen caught her attention. She didn't check the time– too scared to do so. All the while assuming it must be her pen pal.

Thankful

C

ora Purdee is the pen pal of Stacy Gellar. A young woman with sun-tanned skin with short, pixie cut red hair. Her eyes are hazel brown with swirls of brown and red. She happened to be twenty two with plump features, standing around five foot four.

            The pen pal of Stacy Gellar also happened to be good at being charitable compared to Stacy. She knew Cora was born January 31st as well as fancying the colors yellow, magenta, and black. She also recalled the knitting with music her pen pal did. She considered Cora Purdee a pen pal since they met through a writer's app. So, she saw Cora as her pen pal.

          Stacy even cited Cora as her best friend. She could see the older girl was quite independent. Still, she didn't see how the redheaded woman was able to make it to the town of Casper. She was nervous, fiddling where she stood. She made it to the door in the kitchen, stopping as she began to stare off into space.

          She classified it as the front door. She never got around to learning knitting, because her life had been a bit hectic. Her mind had been overflowing with stress. Stress she kept shoved down, hoping her mind would clear up. Her mind almost never became clear.

            Her thoughts are trying to be her number one enemy. She takes a shaky breath, wiggling her fingers. She goes to pull open the door, thinking it's gonna be her pen pal. Her eyes grow wide at the sight before her eyes. It was the last person she was expecting to see on her doorstep.

          Hey, sis! I'm home! The deep voice of Sam Gellar announced. He had a smug smile on his face. His short, dark hair was sprawled all over the place– sticking up. He had this dreamy gleam in his ocean blue eyes.

          Stacy stares at the six foot lug with a plump, curvy body– no her younger brother by a year was not fat. She knew he was simply thick, having lost a couple of pounds when he was working at a pizza place. Her baby brother had a sun-kissed, seemingly red complexion. She noted a duffle bag at his feet, Are you high, bro?

          No...? Sam grinned, not hiding the truth. He always lied straight to her face. He had the bad habit of doing the same thing with Sylvia. He lifted a hand in the air before gesturing to his purple duffle bag, I'm moving back in!

          Sam, you don't have to lie to me about being high. I may be the only one in the family who doesn't smoke, but c'mon?! Stacy angrily grills Sam who frowns.

          Okay, okay. If I'm gonna be moving back in I'll be honest with you. I am kinda high. Sam grins as Stacy moves aside. He walks funnily inside, dragging his purple duffle bag on the ground. He and Sylvia had long bonded over their favorite color being purple.

          Stacy was about to shut the door, wanting fresh air. She eyed the outside, soon regretting it upon the humidity slamming into her olive cheeks. She closed the door, making sure to lock it. She gestured for her brother to sit with her at the counter, Are you good, Sam?

          Sam groans, leaving his purple bag on the floor. He used to not be so messy then he became an adult man. He got to be messy, leaving stuff all over. He couldn't be bothered to do much, No. She ripped out my heart then ate it.

        Stacy prayed to the higher beings that her brother was just joking. She pressed the fingers of her hand to her temples, I hope you meant metaphorically.

          Of course I meant metaphorically. My class is going great, but my designs still need work. It's gonna take longer than a year. Sam calmly informs Stacy who sighs, nodding as she listens to his problems.

          Stacy has stayed at the house, choosing to keep living in it. She could have gone to college at Casper University yet she opted for a different path. A different path- sometimes, she regretted choosing. She blew a raspberry before sucking on her lower lip. Her baby brother left for college a year ago whereas their older brother left four years prior.

          Sylvia Gellar is a forty seven year old, living in her own house across from Stacy. So, if anything were to go wrong then Stacy knew she could go see her sister.

          Stacy got up to pour herself some coffee. She didn't have the right to tell Sam he couldn't move back in. All four of the Gellar children had their names listed on the deed to the house. Their mother had seen to it. She cast Sam a glance, You want any caffeine?

        No, thank you. I'll have some tea. Sam scoffed, getting up to head directly for the fridge. He juts his bottom lip out in a pout upon not seeing any tea made. He forgot that Stacy forfeited tea a long time ago.

          I don't keep tea. I don't drink it since it messes with my stomach. Stacy gently informs Sam, watching him close the silver fridge before sighing.

          Sam eyes the black and white microwave on the countertop next to the fridge. An idea begins to form in his head, Don't you have a friend coming to live with you?

          Yes, but it's only for a little bit. Stacy states, eyeing Sam. She proceeded to remember how her brother knew some sign language. She recalled him being in class for it in middle school.

          Sam had been unable to stay in the class, but it was something she did recall of her brother. He folded his arms to his chest, Hey, have you heard from Silas?

          Not since he left four years ago. Why? Stacy says, wondering why Sam had become interested.

          Sam fiddles with the base of his neck. He gave a nonchalant shrug, I just figured he would have contacted you.

          Stacy knew that Silas Gellar, who was their older brother, talked about returning. She heard the conversation Silas would have, talking animatedly about it. She figured he must have changed his mind, because she hadn't seen or heard from him since. She shrugged in turn, Is it possible he changed his mind?

          Eh, I'm not sure. I do recall the dude talking about coming home to 913 Waters Avenue. Our conversation was a week ago in my dorm where we smoked some weed. Sam revealed to Stacy.

            Stacy heard the words of her brother– loud and clear. Her older brother went missing without anyone knowing. She groaned, Did he leave any indication of whether or not– he was gonna come straight here aside from his words?

            Stace. Sam loudly groaned, having tumbled back into a chair. He was rather exhausted– emotionally and psychically. He let his face smack into an arm he placed on the countertop, It could have been the weed talking.

          Stacy rolled her eyes at the mention of the addiction of a legal drug that made you accomplish nothing. She had seen it too many times. Unproductive people smoking a joint– smoking weed, pot, whatever the fucked someone wanted to call it. It didn't matter. She scrunched up her face trying to get herself to concentrate, Sam–

            No, Stace! Sam growled, quick to cut her off. He heard the judgment in her tone. A little too loud for his liking. He forced himself to meet the hazel green eyes of Stacy, Don't take the judgemental tone with me.

          Whatever. Stacy groaned, wondering if Sam wasn't pranking her about Silas. She knew it was more than likely. She let it go as she added an afterthought, Your bedroom is still the same. No one has touched it.

          Sam perks up, scurrying from his seat once more. He grabbed up his duffle bag, leaving Stacy to her thoughts. He couldn't wait to get to his bedroom to enjoy alone time. He was on the brink of quitting girls for good, especially after the last one tore out his heart. His high-school sweetheart took him for a long, dramatic, emotional, rollercoaster of a ride.

            Stacy watches Sam rush off. She brought her black mug with