The larger one dangled me from the roof of my mouth as the other one reached out to squeeze the very life out of me. I shrieked as he pulled downwards, digging the hook into the sensitive flesh of my brain. “No, Robby. You pull up, not down.â€? The larger one lifted me from the hook, as I thrashed violently, falling into the water to avoid being taken to the ritualistic torture chamber known as The Bait Box.

It’s been five years since that day. I haven’t eaten minnows since.