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Cassie Gallagher was born to an alcoholic father and a dead beat mother. Being raised by her older sister was tough, but what was even worse was living under the same roof as her other six siblings. Family troubles, drugs, and sharin...
I raced through the halls of the hospital, every thought possible filling through my head. I mean this was all just some joke right....a joke to get me to stay home.
Monica wasn't actually....no she couldn't be.
"Cass" My brother whispered as I came to a stop in the waiting room.
"No don't give that look, don't" He wrapped his arms around me as I broke down on his shoulder. I just saw her yesterday...how the fuck did this happen.
"Carl's already on a train home" Fiona sighed as I took the seat next to her. "Did Mickey take Moni home?"
Oh god Moni...how was I supposed to...Fuck I named her after her...and now she was...
"Gallagher" A nurse called as we made our way over to her. "Dr. Caughey, Monica your mother?" Oh god, this couldn't be happening. "Your mother came in unresponsive, we made every attempt to revive her but we were unsuccessful"
So this was it...after years of her torturing us that bitch got to take the easy way out...no, no fucking way.
Monica fucking Gallagher could not be dead.
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"Moni's already in bed" Mickey sighed, handing me a cup of coffee. "And there's leftover chicken in the fridge"
I placed the drink down, grabbing a beer from Lip. As much as I loved coffee, I was definitely going to need something a whole lot stronger to get through tonight.
"Think we should call Bill?" Fi muttered as I picked up the bag of our mom's things. Right Bill....our asshole of a grandfather. Honestly the guys a dick so probably not.
"It's not like he ever wanted anything to do with us"
I thought for a moment before pulling out the items from the bag. Her phone, the clothes she was wearing....and her wedding ring.
God I never understood how Frank afforded something so nice.
"Cass" Lip called quietly, handing me a duffle bag. "You know mom would have wanted you to have everything"
I pulled back the zipper, a giant whiff of weed filling my nose. Always count on our mom to have drugs with her at all times.
"She kept the jacket i sewed her" I ran my fingers along the worn down fabric, proud to see my stitching had stayed in tact. "I'm surprised she kept it"
