[Chapter Two]
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Urophobia - Fear of urine or of urinating
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I had to pee so badly.
Damn lady had made me drink three pots of tea before she was satisfied that my throat was healing itself. Three! I was going to kill Jay when I saw him again. He probably told her to make me drink tea until I exploded.
There was no way in hell I was going to use the random hole in the corner of the cell. Firstly, eww. Secondly, I'd probably fall in and get stuck or something embarrassing like that. Instead, I had to curl up into a ball and think about anything but peeing or water or any form of liquid. Crap! This was not working.
My throat wasn't healed enough to yell for someone, but I really needed to go. I searched my cell for something to use to make noise, but all I had was a bolted down bed with a pillow. Fat lot of good that would do me. Frustrated, I slammed my hands against the bars and let out a sharp curse. I was not going to wet my pants. The bars shook a little, making a muted noise. What if...I reached down and pulled of one of my tennis shoes, making sure that my foot was resting on top of my other shoe. I was not going to touch the floor, sock or not. Who knew what was down there.
I pulled my arm back and smacked my shoe against the bars, grinning when it made a resounding gong. Surely someone would have to have heard that. I did it over and over again, ignoring the dull throbbing pain in my arm. Finally, someone came down the stairs angrily. I smiled sweetly when I saw it was Jay. He gave me a disgusted look and crossed his arms. "What," he bit out, "could you possibly need to make that noise for?"
"I have to pee," I rasped out. Good God I sounded like an old smoker lady. You know, the ones that live with forty some cats and smoke two packs a day? No, not a cat lady. Cat ladies are dainty and serve tea to their neighbors whilst showing off their picture albums of their grandchildren. I'm talking about the curmudgeon smoker lady that has forty cats and eats little children for breakfast. Sexy. Which is why Jay, after hearing my raspy voice, promptly opened my cell and kissed me senseless. I wish. Hey, a girl can dream.
Instead, Jay glanced pointedly at the corner of my cell. "There's a hole built specifically for that. Enjoy." He turned on his heel to walk away but I called out desperately to him.
"Wait," I cried. "Please. I can't use that. I'm not going to be a problem but I really don't want to pee myself." I crossed my legs and did a little dance, giving him a puppy-dog look.
"Why can't you use the hole?"
I gave him a look of utter disbelief. "Um, it's nasty, dude. When was the last time you cleaned it? Plus, I'll probably fall in or something embarrassing. I am unfortunately not gifted with the ability to pee whilst standing. Please!"
He glared suspiciously at me, hopefully contemplating whether he should let me out or not. I was willing to promise him almost anything if he would just let me go, damn it! I watched in frustration as he turned away, but was quickly relieved when I saw he was merely grabbing a pair of cuffs.
He unlocked my cell and motioned for me to hold my hands out. I slipped my shoe back on and did as he wanted, hating the cool feel of the cuffs on my wrists. However, it meant I got to use the bathroom, not some shit hole for prisoners. "Why am I in a cell anyways?" I asked. "I'm a hostage, not a prisoner."
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The Pawn [Imposter Sequel]
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