GAME OVER ━━ Lip Gallagher

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

Game Over
chapter twenty five

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

TRIGGER WARNING !!
mentions of rape and sexual
assault.

MOST PEOPLE START REMEMBERING THINGS ONCE THEY HIT THE HALF MARK OF TWO YEARS OLD. Phoebe always thought that fact was insane. Her first memory she could really recall was on the day of her sixth birthday. She had asked for a party, which was thrown at her school. The teacher had bought her a cake from the grocery store. She remembered that because it was an awful shade of green, and perhaps that spurred the idea of green being her upmost favorite color. The kids would gather around and sing her happy birthday off key, but there was always something missing. Her parents weren't there to celebrate with her. They hadn't contributed to the party at all. When she thanked them later that night, they didn't even know what she was talking about.

That memory was the first of many terrible ones. She could remember at age seven when Chris Kumpter pushed her off of the top of the slide because she was a girl and girls weren't allowed on the big slide. She had to get stitches in her hairline later that day. She could remember when she got her first period at ten and bled through her favorite pair of lime green shorts and the kids in her class laughed and laughed, making fun of her until she locked herself in the bathroom. Her parents wouldn't even answer the phone to bring her a change of clothes, so she had to wear her teacher's cardigan around her waist for the rest of the day. She remembered when she was twelve and slept outside in the old dog house because she had came home from being scared at a slumber party (she wasn't really scared, the girls were just assholes).

She didn't know if she could categorize this memory as a bad one. On one hand, her parents tossed her aside like week old leftovers. But on the other, she was finally free from the constant feeling of being alone somewhere she was meant to feel loved. She no longer had to beg for attention from two people who couldn't and wouldn't spare any. She didn't have to worry about awkward dinners or the wrath of her father all because she did one dumb thing. She was no longer stuck in a smoke filled bubble. She could breathe, though Chicago air isn't too much better with the amount of pollution it creates. She had a suitcase rolling behind while a duffle bag bounced against her right side with every step she took.

There was only one place she could think of going. Sure they had enough people there, but they wouldn't turn her away. She'd get a job, help pay for what she's using. Her boots crunched over the brown ice covering the sidewalk. The street lights were on, illuminating the walk to the Gallagher household. The bottom of her suitcase was already wet and she knew that if she didn't get it dry any time soon that it would mildew. Just as she was going to turn the corner, she noticed a shadowed figure walking her way. They were bundled up, but she'd notice that person in a dark room. "Moving somewhere?" A sigh left her lips as her shoulders sagged forward. "Hopefully?"

It took her a moment to notice the red burning in front of him. He was smoking, which didn't come as a surprise. It was an addiction he's had since they were fourteen. "Wait, really?" he asked as he finally came to stop in front of her. She let go of the handle of her suitcase and let her arm fall to her side, hand slapping against the outside of her thigh. "What the fuck happened?" She felt her chest tighten at the question. It was dumb to feel so awful about what happened. She had stood her ground, said what she needed to say. If anything, it was a win for her. But she still felt terrible about it. "I got kicked out," she breathed out, using her hand to wave away her words with nonchalance. "No big deal, though."