The Others: Part Three
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.