Nymphs

Episode 1- You need help

Bridgette drummed her fingers nervously. She hated having to attend these meetings. She hated these meetings for a variety of reasons. First off, the attendants are rather annoying, if not pathetic. And THAT is before she has to go to the podium, and confess why she's there. Yes, attending an Addicts Anonymous meeting SHOULD be a step towards recovery…but that is highly dependant on your addiction. Drug and Cigarette addicts are treated compassionately, Alcohol addicts have their own special room, just for them. Shopping addicts are treated with disdain, sometimes envy. Girls like HER?

"Hello, I'm Bridgette…and I'm addicted to sex."-no sooner did she finish that sentence, the men in the room began to hoot and holler like wild animals. The women looked on at the blonde surfer with disdain, disgust, and some amusement. Sex addicts…a joke in society.

She was just 17. At age 16, she had made the biggest blunder of her life, she had joined a Reality TV show. It was called 'Total Drama Island'. There, she met Geoff, initially a nice guy. She had entered a relationship with him…which was more physical than anything. In fact, it was just a physical relationship. Though the rose colored vision of youth made it seem like the two were in love, there were not many moments where the two actually demonstrated any emotional maturity beyond the 'I love you' that is repeated ad nauseam during those tender, yet hollow moments of teenage Eros. Eventually, Geoff had changed…for the worse. It came to the point where he had become a different person, one obsessed with fame, appearance, money…the same things that, at the beginning of that summer, meant nothing to him. Bridgette could not take much more. The boy had become everything she hated. That relationship had to end.

But… She felt strange. Every night, she would feel a need for her genitalia to be aroused. She felt the need for the embrace of another human being, a male, preferably. She needed to feel the wonder that was the orgasm, the smell of a man, the sweat of a lover dripping unto her. It was inexplicable. Why? Why this? She had but tasted the most basic of Man's most primordial pleasure. All she did was kiss Geoff incessantly. But…that awakened within her a beast. She wanted more. Lust had conquered her. So, in her greatest moment of weakness, she took Geoff, and gave herself to him. She hated it, yet…she wanted more. She loathed herself, these feelings…and she wanted nothing more than to ease them. She had become addicted to sex.

They laughed at her, winked at her, looked at her as if she was some prize to be won, like she was a possible one night stand. She walked on to the back of the room, her pride in tatters, her self esteem at the lowest it could get.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen! Please, let us proceed with our next guest."-said the coordinator. The rest of the meeting went off, with many men and women admitting to their addictions. Some admitted being addicted to cocaine, others to Marijuana, whilst others admitted to being addicted to shopping, watching television, playing video games, etcetera.

Bridgette left that meeting in a hurry. She did not need shit from people who just liked to play victims, when all they needed was a little self control. Self Control.. who was she to criticize them? If she had better self control… she would not be in this mess. She would not need to wake up in the arms of a foul, disgusting pig of a boy, crying her eyes out over the shame, disgust and self hatred that she felt. Truth was, she had no control over herself. She just has to do this…

Heather was just outside the room where the meetings took place. She needed help… She saw Bridgette. She looked the other way. Truth be told, she hated everyone from the old show. It's just as well, the feeling was mutual. She needed to leave. She had no intention of staying where she was not welcome. No matter how much help she needed…

It was the next day. Bridgette debated to herself weather to enter the meeting or not. "Why bother?- she asked herself- they can't help me. They don't want to help me. They think I'm a porn star. They think I'm a whore. A slut. I don't need that shit from anyone." She began to shake in her anger. Heather had arrived, finally. She took one look at Bridgette, and stuck her nose in the air. Bridgette simply looked at her, a blank expression in her face. "Meh, she's here to get rid of her shopping addiction. Damn bitch, fucking hate that cunt."-thought the blond girl. "Bet that dumb blonde is here because she needs help to stop surfing, or some shit. Damn skank."- Heather thought to herself whilst she made her way to the room. After debating it with herself for a while, Bridgette finally entered.

"Hello friends. Tonight, we welcome a new friend. Say hello to Heather Winslow."- said the coordinator. Heather walked up to the podium. The coordinator said to her- "Heather, why are we here?" Heather walked up to the podium, and said- "Hello, I'm Heather. I'm here because…I'm addicted to masturbation." The whole room erupted in laughter. Everyone was laughing, hooting, howling with indecent expressions. Everyone, except the blond surfer girl.

Heather walked out of the room, visibly shaking in anger. The hatred for her fellow men radiated dangerously from her eyes, her very soul trembling with the venom of apathy and hate. Lo and behold, the once mighty queen bee, whose very name once frightened the lowly, the undesired of youth society. She is now scorned, hated, reviled, mocked, and humiliated. Her slim, statuesque figure, one still worthy of admiration and desire, served as a cover for a desolate, hurt, confused, angry, scornful, and sorrowful child of the times.

Bridgette walked out of the room as well. Heather looked at her. Their gazes were intercrossing. A pair of gray eyes gazed with hate and repulsion, whilst a pair of green eyes gazed with sympathy. And the gaze of the gray eyes softened somewhat…

TO BE CONTINUED…