❝ my family are so fucked up. i love them ❞
hannah gallagher, the middle child.
a spit fire, a smart ass and god damn loyal.
as long as she doesn't turn out like her parents, she doesn't care.
she's just trying not to get herself killed.
❝ fuck the...
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―
Moonlight streamed through the cracks of the slightly open curtain over Adam's bedroom window. The boy lay in his bed, asleep, with his arms wrapped around the redhead next to him, who lay wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.
Hannah looked over at Adam's sleeping face with a smile small that quickly fell before she slowly got out of the bed, moving slow enough as not to wake him up. Pulling the sleeves of the yellow and brown knitted sweater of the boy's that she'd slept in over her hands as she tiptoed across the bedroom and grabbed a pair of his pyjama pants as well. Slipping them on, she let out a sigh as she looked back over at the bed and took quiet steps toward him and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Goodbye, Adam." She whispered, before rushing out of the Cuthbert house.
―
"Thank you all for coming out in honour of Aunt Ginger," Cousin Patrick said as his side of the family and the Gallaghers stood on a street corner for her... send off, "'GG' as I called her. You now, when the guy at the funeral place handed me her ashes, I thought, 'what the hell do I do with these? Put 'em in a vase on my mantle? Or scatter them at the park or the lake?' Then I thought, 'no, I know where she was happiest. On this corner, her corner, where she turned tricks in her twenties and thirties'."
"And sixties!" Frank cried.
Carl raised an eyebrow, "She did magic tricks?"
"No, no, no, son," Frank shook his head, "'Turning tricks' is a euphemism for prostitution. In her day, your great aunt was a legendary pole smoker. Could unlock her jaw like a Burmese python."
"We are at her funeral." Jimmy reminded him sharply.
"You know, some think Gallaghers don't have a work ethic," Frank continued, making Hannah rest her head on Ian's shoulder with a groan, "But Ginger worked this corner rain, sleet, snow, her old knees hitting that hard pavement again and again. Bertie Giddelman is the only one that's outlasted her." He said, gesturing to the prostitute in the wheelchair.
"Look, you all knew Ginger, so I ain't gonna sugar-coat it," Patrick said, "She was a mean old bitch. But even a mean old bitch deserves a send off. Here, here. So this is us, Ginger, sending you off, right where you belong." He finished, tipping the carboard box upside down and letting 'her' ashes be dumped onto the pavement.
"It's touching." Lip nodded.
"I'm tearing up." Ian hummed.
"My life will never be the same again," Hannah said in the same sarcastic tone as her brothers, "Carl, want a piggyback back home?"
