Hello, my lovelies! It's Sappho Offical! Y'all have supported me through elections, tournaments, and our regular shenanigans, and I cannot express enough how much I appreciate y'all. As a treat, I'll be sharing the chapters of my book here for y'all to read!
So wonderful to see you again, my lovelies! It's your wonderful Auntie Sappho (@sappho-offical) again!
As promised, I will be posting the chapters of my stories here!
As I post the chapters, I'll link them here as a table of contents! Beneath the cut will be a description of the plot, possible trigger warnings, tropes, etc.
This is going to be a series, but I only have book 1 completed. I'm in the process of editing book 1 and writing the first draft of book 2.
Tysm for all your love and support đ«¶â€ïž
Poetry Collection:
Years of Pleasure, Pain, and Poems: An Original Poetry Collection
(Book 1) Chaos Squared: Posted Chapters:
Chapter 1 (Pt. 1)
Out of Context Pt. 1
Book 1 Synopsis:
Everything was fine. Until it wasn't. One cold January afternoon, a cult rose from the shadows. Trapped in their high school, Alina, Kayla, and Jayce must find a way to escape and get back home. But as they learn about the events leading up to their entrapment, they realize they're running out of time.
Can the group of high schoolers make it out of their school-turned-prison and save their small town classmates? Or will they become prey to the twisted darkness that awaited them?
Possible trigger warnings for Book 1: death, violence, cults, homophobia, racism, kidnapping, religious trauma; mentions of rape, sexual assault, grooming, toxic relationships, domestic abuse, child abuse
Tropes (and such, idk): childhood friends to lovers, wlw, poly-coded, mlw, competitive perfectionist x snarky and laid back, gentle giant x bad ass
Well then, as promised, here is my project I've been working on.
I've been working on putting together every poem I've ever written and putting them all into one google doc. I think the oldest are around 3 years old.
It's a work in progress, but I currently have a title page, working table of contents, an author's note, and section title pages (with introductory poems!). It's formatted like a book, and who knows, maybe one day I'll publish it as one, but for now, this is what we've got :)
Now, this is a work in progress. I'm going to add poems as I write them, and everything is subject to being edited, so y'all get a front row seat to watching as my poems grow.
I want to thank everyone again for your support. You guys have been here with me since day one, and now we're about to reach over 1000 islanders. It means the world to mean that you all want to listen to me yap, so here, have an organized yap book <3
(I'll be adding the link to my intro post as well, so it won't get lost)
Years of Pleasure, Pain, and Poems: An Original Poetry Collection
â...How about you go take a break? Iâll let everyone know what weâve found out, you just go take a breather," Jay said, pushing off the chair he was leaning on.
I swiveled in my chair, my grip on the armrests tightening.
Can I just leave for a second? What if something happens?
Before I could get another word out, Jay pushed my chair towards the door and dumped me on the floor before locking me out of the office.
I huffed and stood up, brushing the imaginary dust off my jeans.
As I looked up, I realized how quickly everyone had split into groups. Everyone was in their own little makeshift forts, whispering to one another about the unreal scenario we found ourselves in. I let my gaze travel around the room, amazed at how quickly everyone had created their little niches. Taking in a deep breath, I surveyed the room in search of a small, unoccupied corner to hide out in.
Finally finding a few free floor tiles, I sat down behind some cubbies and started trying to relax.
For about 5 minutes.
That's when I decided that I did not, in fact, wish to relax. Relaxing is boring. Relaxing is stressful. I had so much I needed to do, but here I was sitting on my ass doing jack shit.
"Fuck this shit," I muttered to myself.
Before I could get up, though, Kayla peaked her head into my quiet, little hideout.
âHuh, I didnât think youâd leave that room for at least another day or two,â she said as she crawled next to me and put her chin on my shoulder, her front pressed against my side.
For once I didnât try to pull away, I just sat there. I could feel the warmth of her body seeping into mine weighing my body down like a sedative. The smell of her shampoo filled the tiny space, sweet and fruity. I could feel heat starting to stain my cheeks red.
Memories of all our many sleepovers flashed through my mind, all the chances I had before. All the chances I might not have again.
âYou okay?â Kayla whispered, pulling my attention back to her and her striking features. âYou seem
..off. Did something happen?â
I paused, fiddling with the hole in my jeans as I sat entranced by the flecks of blue in her stormy gray eyes. Her beautiful, beautiful eyes... âJustâŠthinking.â
âWell, thatâs never good," she snorted.
Her perfect, messy hair...
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Okay, come on, what happened?" she pressed.
Her petulant, snarky stubbornness...
God, I love her.
Wait-
No. It's true.
I love her.
"Alina. Spill," she said again, her voice firmer, more insistent."
I can't lose her.
I can't.
I need her.
She needs to know.
Fuck, Alina, don't just sit there! Do something!
"You and I both know I wonât leave until you-â
I finally snapped out of my dazed stupor. My heart raced, blood pumping in my ears as I leaned down and closed the gap between her lips and mine.
I did it.
I fucking did it.
After how many years, I finally-
Shit. I did it.
Why did I do that?
As quickly as I had condemned myself, I pulled back, regret and fear filling my chest and lungs. It felt like I was drowning. I just kissed my best friend with absolutely no warning. I just ruined everything. She's gonna hate me. My knees drifted back up to my chest, and I braced myself for rejection.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have-"
Before I could finish my sentence, Kayla sat up and cupped my face in her calloused hands, pulling my face closer as she closed the gap between us once again. My eyes drifted shut as I melted in the palm of her hand. Her touch was firm but gentle. It kept me grounded despite my soul being rocketed into the stratosphere.
Voices in my head started pushing through, warring for my attention as Kayla gently tilted my head back to deepen the kiss.
She deserves better.
How awesome is this?!
You should be working.
For once, though, I didnât give in to the urge to spiral. I didn't get lost in my head. I didn't doubt myself. I didn't let my anxiety consume me. Mostly because there was nothing left to consume. In that moment, my world, my everything was her. I was lost in her. I placed my trust, my heart, in her. I was consumed by her.
After a moment, she pulled back, keeping her forehead pressed against mine as we panted, our breath mingling and mixing. My eyes fluttered open, and her bright, blue eyes stuck to mine.
âAbout damn time,â she whispered, then kissed me again.
After reexamining the plot of book 1, my plan for the rest of the series, and how my skill level has increased from when I started this 5+ years ago, I'm significantly reconstructing book 1 đ
But I have an idea
Bc of how I'm restructuring, I will still use chunks that I have already written!
Therefore, I shall pose a poll you, my lovelies, on how more of my writing content will be released <3
How should I release content?
Share in chronological order (will take A LOT longer, be less frequent)
Share chunks I will keep (will be released very quickly, not in order)
*This is still a rough draft. Feel free to leave suggestions!
Chapter 1: Snowed In (Pt. 1)
Alina
(Alina)
Even before the occult, American high schools werenât exactly the best, especially in the South. Generally, they consisted of cardboard lunches and the usual high school jerks, but there was a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. That was more than some could say.
On January 22nd, at 10 oâclock in the morning, it snowed. When I say snow, I mean blizzard-level snow. Within 30 minutes they announced they had called parents and were getting ready to send everyone home due to inclement weather.
âStay in your 2nd period classroom and wait for your name to be called over the speakers,â they said. âYour rides are on the way.â
For some reason, despite typical snow day protocols, the teachers and staff decided to leave before anyone got dismissed. The teachers and staff packed their bags and instructed us to behave and wait until our names got called over the speakers. They assigned a couple of seniors to sit in the office and call student names over the intercoms and went on their merry way.
âWeâre a small town in the middle of nowhere,â they said, âso we can bend rules and fudge protocols a bit. Itâll be fine, youâll be out of here soon.â
10 minutes after the adults left, so much snow had built up outside of the doors that they were barricaded shut. No one could go in or out.
âItâll melt,â they said. âYouâll be out of here in no time. Just sit tight and wait for your rides.â
Ten minutes after that, our phones started acting strange. We could still send texts to people inside the school, but attempts to contact anyone outside were struck down by some omnipotent force.
They said it was because of the storm and a knocked down power line. âNo need to worry, just sit in your classes and wait to be called.â
How a power line getting knocked down only affected communication going out of the building was beyond me, but that was what we were told, so we sat there and waited, isolated from everything outside our cinder block walls and relying on trust that names would soon be called from the speakers because that was what we were told.
But the intercoms remained silent.
The âsnowâ didnât melt.
The doors didnât open.
Our phones didnât start working again.
We were left in the building alone with no adults or supervision.
It didnât take long for the chaos to start.
I was in Computer Literacy.
We mingled and found our regular friend groups and tried to ignore the growing unease slowly filling the classroom. I knew most of the other kids in the class and ended up hanging out with a couple of friends I knew from a previous group project. We were talking about how long until our rides would arrive when Gia gasped, snatching everyoneâs attention away from whatever conversation theyâd been occupying themselves with.
âGuys! Guys!â she called out, looking panicked. âTown Hall just got stormed!â
Everybody lost their shit.
Who? Why? How?
It wasnât until Jay, one of my closest friends in and out of class, let out a sharp âHey!â that the room finally stopped rattling with the amount of questions being asked at once.
It was easy for Jay to get everyone to quiet down. He was tall, smart, and a good guy. He was respected, if not admired and liked, by everyone, and that gave him the power to control the crowd like a king commanding his subjects, but with a much more benevolent hand.
Once he was satisfied with the silence, he finally asked, âGot raided by who?â
âI-I donât know, some group called the True Lordâs Blade?â Gia said.
The True Lordâs Blade? What the fuck was happening out there?
âGuys!â someone else yelled. âOne of the seniors in the front office said they saw people barricading the door shut! They sent a picture, look!â
âHey, look at the window!!! Theyâre boarding it up, too!!!â
That was the final straw.
Everyone lost it, yelling, screaming, crying. People ran to the window banging on the glass and crying as the boards were hammered in place. The haunting bang of the boards swam in the air and intertwined with our screams and cries. The symphony of our fate, orchestrated by an unknown enemy draped in mystery and cruelty echoed through the room and bounced off the walls. The sharp strings of innocent cries blended with the percussion of our assured doom to drown my spirit and suspend all hope as I was yanked around by the crowd as if caught by a wave during a deadly storm.
My heart hammered in my chest as I got shoved towards the back of the room. I collided with the wall as I was finally washed ashore. My chest was tight, my eyes bounced around the room, my lungs begged for air that my shallow breathing could not supply. Dots danced in my vision as my nails dung into my palms, nearly drawing blood.
No. No, no, no, noâŠ
As panic filled my veins, my hands found their way in my pockets, an instinct built from the need to hide the vulnerable state my mind was in, to not let a fraction of weakness be presented to the cruel world and its inhabitants, though I was surely failing at that particular mission.
The cool metal of my phone still stored in my pockets snapped me out of my terror filled tunnel vision and grounded me, offering a temporary reprieve from the pounding panic banging on the inside of my skull. I swallowed and took out the metal rectangle with shaky hands. My screen flicked on and I saw it: my screensaver. It was a picture of my family. My little brother was laughing as we tried to push each other out of the frame while my even littler sister stood on tiptoes in front of us.
I stared at the picture, the chaos and cries around me muffled by the pounding of my heart that echoed through my head. My eyes traced their faces and the joy clearly written into each scrunched nose and upturned lip. That image reached something deep inside me. It tugged on some part of my heart that still hoped to feel the happiness captured in that picture. It was like a ray of sunshine that broke through the storm, a sun rising in the horizon that called for me to pick myself up, dust the sand off my pants, and set back out to sea. It reminded me of what I had waiting for me, what I had to lose if I lost myself in this sea of sorrow, what I had to gain if I pushed through the storm and made it out the other side.
I stared at the picture, the chaos and cries around me muffled by the pounding of my heart that echoed through my head. My eyes traced their faces and the joy clearly written into each scrunched nose and upturned lip. That image reached something deep inside me. It tugged on some part of my heart that still hoped to feel the happiness captured in that picture. It was like a ray of sunshine that broke through the storm, a sun rising in the horizon that called for me to pick myself up, dust the sand off my pants, and set back out to sea. It reminded me of what I had waiting for me, what I had to lose if I lost myself in this sea of sorrow, what I had to gain if I pushed through the storm and made it out the other side.
I looked up from my phone at the chaotic crowd in front of me. It writhed and pulsed like it was its own creature, like it was entirely separate from the terror-filled kids that it was made of. They were still banging on the window, still pleading for help and mercy, but the glass never cracked, nor did the people nailing the boards into place.
As I watched the panic and pure fear that gripped the class, the same panic and fear that was running through my own veins, something inside me clicked into place.
I need to do something.
I need to get out of here.
I need to make it out.
An unfamiliar determination settled in my veins as those words brought a stillness to my mind. All other thoughts stopped, muted by that same, primal instinct.
