The room I am currently sitting in is, without a doubt, the most despicable place I have ever set foot in. I'm nervously clutching the armrests of my chair so tightly that my knuckles are turning the rather sickening color of spoiled milk. My eyes dart around the room- taking in my surroundings. The flickering lights, threatening to go out any second; the brown walls, covered in so much filth they look like they haven't been cleaned since before I was born; and the damp, sickening smell of mildew that is so putrid I'm forced to hold my handkerchief over my nose. The people aren't much better; bums and convicts make up the rest of the group, save one man in a suit- Kenneth Ortega- who is our leader.

This is my own personal hell. If it were up to me, I'd have quit before it began, but I must admit, it is preferable to prison. So I will stay here for the time being; play along with the judge's little game. They can't keep me here forever.

"We will now begin this week's meeting of Pedophiles Anonymous," Kenny states. "We have a new face here with us tonight, Joseph Pulitzer."

"Hi Joe!" The rest of the group says in unison. They sound unusually cheerful, considering where we are. I don't grace them with an answer, merely a cool stare.

"Who would like to begin sharing tonight?" Kenny asks in his soft, calming voice.

"I would," A man says, raising his hand. He has the worst fashion sense I've ever seen; an ugly beige suit with a purple and green plaid bowtie. Despicable, really.

Kenny nods to him, "Go ahead, Bryan," he urges.

Bryan clears his throat before speaking. "My name is Bryan Denton, and I am a pedophile," he says strongly.

"Hi Bryan!" The sheep chorus.

"I thought I was getting better," Bryan says, his confident exterior wavering, "I hadn't seen David in almost a year; I had forgotten all about him. I had even found myself a girlfriend!" Bryan pauses and puts his head in his hands.

"Go on, Bryan," Kenny encourages, "let it out." The rest of the group follows Kenny's lead in convincing Bryan to go on.

"I saw him today," Bryan chokes out. "He came to my apartment- he came to me! A-and, well, I just couldn't help myself. I ravished him right there on the damn floor." Bryan breaks down into tears, and the people on either side of him lean over to comfort him.

"You're trying, Bryan," Kenny says. "Soon you will forget all about David Jacobs. Who would like to go next?" Kenny looks around the circle, "Medda, how about you?"

"Alright," The redhead says. "My name is Medda Larkson, the Swedish Meadowlark, and I am a pedophile."

"Hi Medda!"

"Like Bryan, I saw my lover recently. I bumped into Racetrack on the streets on my way to rehearsal last week. I must say- the boy looked absolutely vonderful," Medda squeals, to gasps from one half of the group and nods from the other. "But I resisted temptation. Vee vent out for a late lunch, and we got to talking. He is a nice young man. I'm happy to announce that I no longer feel anything romantic and/or sexual towards Racetrack Higgins."