Prolouge

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"It's about what I did. And you know what? I did a great fucking job. Debbie is class president! She is on the debate team going to nationals. Lip, he's top of his class. He set the curve. Ian was promoted in ROTC, and he tested out of English! And Carl made something blow up for his science fair. And you know what? They did it all no thanks to you because you weren't there."

Ian Gallagher was fourteen years old when Monica Gallagher, his bipolar mess of a mother tried taking his two year old brother Liam with her and her new girlfriend Roberta 'Bob.' She had left when Liam was a baby, no older than three months along with her five other children. The oldest sibling Fiona was seventeen years old when one morning she had shoveled a pile of eggs and slightly burnt toast onto a plate for her mother. But when she entered her parents' bedroom she was met with a lonely bed and empty closet, no note was ever found.

"And I appreciate that Fiona, but I'm here now and Liam belongs with me."

Monica tried to reason with Fiona; well at least that was her way of reasoning.

"He doesn't even know who you are!"

Liam recognized the existence of others around him. He had a family consisting of five older siblings who despite their rough upbringing were never afraid to show love and affection towards one another. He also noticed things that set them apart from the all American family. He didn't understand why his skin color was a much darker shade compared to his family; his childlike mind hadn't thought anything of it until the toddler took note of other's questions and opinions on the matter. The lack of biological parents to raise the household of children was another but that didn't mean he had no parental figure in his life.

"I'm his mother!"

Monica was no mother, even before abounding her children and addict of a husband she had proven countless times that she was simply not fit for the role. The second oldest child, Phillip 'Lip', could tell you in grave detail about the time Monica had dragged a reluctant six year old Fiona, a wide eyed four year old Lip, and a touchy feely two year old Ian out to an abounded fairground. It was a week into the New Year and fresh snow was piling on top of the five inches of snow that already made its home on the streets of Chicago. Lip could recall how he and Ian had mimicked Monica's moves twirling around the open area with their eyes closed allowing the feather light snow flakes to leave a tingling sensation from the cold as they shed their thick second hand coats. Fiona watched with a displeased look on her face as the sun began to drop as well as the temperature.

Monica had grown bored and suggested to the kids in an excited manner about exploring the once family friendly park. The two boys had happily agreed and ran off with their giggling mother before their sister could wrestle the three of them back into their coats. They found themselves at was once a bumper car game where mothers rode the power operated miniature vehicles with their children, friends held an aggressive yet friendly competition, and young lovers laughed as they collided with others. Now the few remaining cars each held a story as the incomplete family sat down; Lip kept an eye out on the toddler as Ian stood on his short legs and jumped up and down on the seat, Monica had a somewhat dazed look on her face but she smiled at nothing in particular, and Fiona wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

Ian's pale skin had turned a bright shade of red, his walking was at a much slower pace trying to catch up to his mother who seemed to radiate with energy before his legs gave out.

Monica was hysterical once the police had shown up to the hospital to question the woman. A nurse had called the officers in after being assigned to the two year old with hypothermia with concerns regarding the children's safety. The two cops shared a look at each other as the pregnant woman began to sob believing that the boy died.

"You were my mother too!"

Fiona did the best that she could to raise her younger siblings with next to no support; emotionally nor finically. She learned how to be the household provider and prayed to God or whatever bullshit higher power that her advice and guidance had done something positive for her family. Fiona wanted to be the person she needed when she was younger.

Monica Gallagher was bipolar and manic refusing to take her medication. She liked to go on what she called adventures while in reality it was just another experience that would surely taint her children in the long run. And yet all in all she loved them; her family.

Ian Gallagher was sixteen years old when his older sister decided to fight their father, Frank Gallagher for custody over him and his siblings. Monica willingly signed over her rights hoping to set some kind of understanding knowing their last encounter was anything but a loving reunion.

"My mother is bipolar and my father is an alcoholic and an addict. He takes what he pleases and offers nothing. No money, no support. I've done what I could to help raise my siblings. I wish I could've done more. I'm not asking for your pity or your admiration. I just want to be able to give these kids everything that they deserve because they're great kids and they deserve better."

"I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff. Then no one would ever give you a hard time."

Mickey Milkovich was fifteen years old when his thirteen year old younger sister Mandy decided to befriend the redheaded freckled face Gallagher after the fourteen year old came out to her in hopes of her calling her brothers off to harm the boy for not wanting to hook up with the girl. It wasn't the Milkovich's first encounter with the Gallagher family but it was rare that their families could have a non violent interaction.

"Ian, what you and I have makes me free. Not what these assholes know."

Mickey Milkovich was seventeen years old when he felt like he could breathe for the first time, his lungs seemingly opening slightly as he told a room full of people, his father, that he could not lose the one person that made breathing just a little easier and living manageable because his fear of his homophobic father. Even as Terry Milkovich tackled his youngest son to the ground and began landing punches to his face Mickey couldn't help but let his mind drift to the future, his and Ian's future together.

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