Traumatized

We have stumbled upon #shleb talks, where I, Shelby, tell you a story (or rant in some cases).

It all started last semester. Last semester I got traumatized so bad I was telling people the next day still. I’m going to take a guess that from now on, this whole traumatized thing is going to happen once a semester. Let me tell you.

So it all began last night during my midterm exam. Everyone was cheating, (well not me because I was too scared to, but! Omg) there was this one kid, who apparently was cheating from his phone on his lap, and deary me.

This poor child got caught.

Yup. I witnessed an actual cheating incident.

Let me tell you. I’m pretty sure I was more scared for this kid than they were for themselves.

So basically what happened was that the kid was cheating from their phone and as I was filling out the last couple of bubbles on the scantron the teacher goes up to them and ask,

“What do you have on your lap?”

So obviously everyone turns and looks at the interaction.

He replies with the normal “what? Excuse me?” All the while trying to open his legs wide enough so the phone would fall through and he wouldn’t get in trouble. By then, though, the prof. is standing right on top of this kid. So the kid looks down and his lap, and now he knows he’s stumped.

I’m half listening at this point because by then I have finished filling in the bubbles and I’m panicking hardcore. So I give my pencil to the kid that was sitting next to me, and I grab my test and take it to the prof’s desk. when I get up there I can’t find a place to put it! My mind is in flight or flight mode right now, so I gently place my test upside down and quickly walk over to my desk and grab my things.

When I get up there I can’t find a place to put it! My mind is in flight or flight mode right now (because there is no way I will ever fight, let’s be honest), so I gently place my test upside down and quickly walk over to my desk and grab my things.

As I was up at the desk, I hear snippets of the conversation going on, and let me tell you this flight or flight mode is telling me to run.  What I hear are the standards, what are you going to do? Are you going to let me finish the test? Are you going to give me a zero?”

So I grab my stuff and tell the kid that borrowed my pencil to keep it, and I booked it. I left so fast, but when I was leaving I hear this goodie.

“You either give me a zero, you give me an 80, or you let me finish my test.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s