Fucked Up Gallagher (Book Two)

Chapter Twenty Two

I got a day, One whole day till I had to go to jail. I sat at Monica's funeral listening to everyone's stories of Monica. I stood up after Fiona. "Mom was, She was a lot." I pause. "She wasn't there a lot, and when she was she was dragging you into drugs. But she loved us. I have no doubt in my fucked mind that she loved us, in her own way." Everyone nods. I go home after the funeral. I take my time coming home. I'm the last to leave Monicas funeral and the last one to get home. Everyone dancing around the living room and I join. Is it appropriate to be dancing because my Mom died? No, probably not. But it's the Gallagher thing to do. 

There's a knock on the door the next morning and I hear lip wake me up. "It's the cops." I nod and walk downstairs. I smile at everyone. "I'll be fine. I'll see you in court." Debbie runs over and hugs me. "I'll be ok." One of the cops grabs my arm before I can pull anyone else into a hug. I try to pull away but he keeps ahold of my arm.

I walk to the street with his hand on my arm. He whips me around and cuffs me. I whip around so fast and stop at the force of the car that I can feel my head get whiplash. I let out a cry and I can hear Fiona and Ian yell for him to stop throwing me around. I laugh at the cop. "That's all you got? A fifth-grader has more fight than that." He grabs the cuffs and pulls me. "Amanda Lynn Gallagher, You are under arrest." No shit buddy. 

The court dates a week later, "If you say Enzo hired you they will cut you a deal, less time." I look at the lawyer. "I'm not ratting on a friend." She rolls her eyes. "Okay but what about the noncar related charges, Cant you tell them-" 
"What that I was manic, Might as well call it all mania." We argued almost every day about these types of things. "I'm not fuckin ratting on a friend."
"He's not your friend, if he was he would see your charges and help." 
"And what, then both of us are in here, fuck that lady." I use bipolar as an excuse for about half my shit, claiming "I was only on meds a year due to neglect." 

I walk into court and it's quiet. I can see the Gallaghers, some of Enzo's workers, some men from the bar, and Enzo sitting on my side. The judge and lawyers introduce the case. "I've been trying to charge you for years, Ms. Gallagher." Patti, the judge says. "Day one walking into court at what age?" I laugh. "I think first time was eight." 
"You had ten years to get your shit together, what happened." She asks. "Listen Patti, I know you want me to rat on a friend here. But I cant." She lets out a sigh. "I always hoped id catch you, put you away. I thought one day you and Milkavich would get caught." She looks at me. "You look tired, and you have no fight anymore..."
"I know, you've been waiting for this and then you get it and it sucks." I tell her. "Youre looking at a minimum of ten years." She annonces. " its eight if you tell me who your working for and seven if you go to rehab." She looks at a paper on her desk. "We could get you only five if you do paroll, and three if you tell us all that and then where Mickey is."
"Mickey? Oh he's in a town called up your ass." I hear a quiet laugh and I look back to see Carl smiling. "You really want those ten years? We already have a few people ready to house you if you do only three."
"House me?" I ask. "Monica was your only legal guardian. " She informs me. "So if I tell you everything I get three years and parole AND you make me move into some shitty ass house for fucked kids? Yeah, no."
"We actaly had a nice group offer you a spot for adults under twenty five." I laugh. "Oh fuck, I'm almost an adult. Wait, housing doent matter."
"Due to your pleed of mental illness it does." I groan. "Does that same plee not deduse time." 
"Five years, It takes off five years." Everyone looks shocked that this isn't playing out like regular court. "Ill take the ten years, probably do six to eight because of overcrouding." She nods. "Well then miss Gallagher, you are sentenced to ten years in state prison, charged as an adult." She keeps going but I don't listen. "This will be a great ten years." I whisper to my lawyer.