Slowly the urine began to run down her legs and she sat there dreading the horror that was about to pounce on her. She knew that she should have raised her hand and asked to be excused, but she couldn't. She just sat there, frozen in her chair, fearing the worst. Fearing the humiliation of bringing attention to herself. Was it shyness? No. It was sheer terror at the prospect of being called upon to give an answer to questions she didn't understand. Terror at the thought of asking to be excused for something as simple as going to the bathroom. Terror of being exposed for the dumb ass that she felt she was. Terror of being . . . seen. Praying that she could revert to the childlike game of covering her eyes to become invisible. Maybe they won't see me if I just sit here quietly and don't raise my hand.
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