Life's Better When You Gotta Bassist In It // L.A. Guns •Kelly Nickels•

Only Time Will Tell

I woke up the next morning, wanting to roll over and go back to sleep, but I couldn't. It was Thursday, I fucking dreaded this day. Despite my wanting to go back to sleep, I got up and looked at my clock.

9:00 A.M.

The funeral was at 10. I sighed and walked out of my room and to the bathroom. My shower was sort of sad. Trying not to cry and thinking about everything else so I wouldn't. But the only thing I could think about instead of thinking about my fathers death, was whiskey.

I was okay with drinking like a normal person. A few here and there, but I couldn't do it anymore. I'm still afraid I'll turn out like how my mom did. The problem with vowing to stay off alcohol though, for the second time, is that I know for a fact that at some point, I'm bound to fucking break it.

After my shower I got a towel and wrapped it around myself, walking back to my room. Put on undergarments and some socks. I then put on the dress. I grabbed a black flowy jacket out of my closet and put it on.

I grabbed my converse and put them on as well. Nothing about this was fucking glamorous, I was getting ready to go see my dad, dead in a box that would soon be 6 feet under.

I put my watch on my wrist and grabbed the eulogy off of my nightstand. I walked out of my room and I was surprised to see all the guys there, they weren't there when I went to shower. "Morning Erin." Mick said. I nodded. "I uhm, I'm off to my dads funeral." I said.

They all nodded. "We'll wait for you to get home." Kelly said. I shook my head no. "You don't have to, I have to work after it." I said. No one said anything and I was happy about that. Someone would say something fucking stupid and out of turn, and then I'd hate two people. Not just Kelly.

I grabbed my car keys off the kitchen counter and walked to my car. I got in and drove to the funeral home. When I got there I walked in. In the front row of chairs closest to my dad was my mom and I. He didn't have anymore family. Behind us sat a few of his drug buddies. They for once, didn't look strung out.

It was a small funeral. Just me, my mom, a few of my dads drug buddies, and the pastor from the church we went to when I was little, before everything turned into hell. "I genuinely don't know what you all are going through, but assume it's hurt." The pastor said and I nodded.

"Let's bow our heads in a moment of silence." He continued. We bowed our heads for a little bit. "Behind, Michael Ernest Scott leaves wife, Donna Sue Scott and daughter, Erin Anne Scott. I understand that Erin has written her father's eulogy." The pastor said.

I nodded and got up. After I read the eulogy, I was on the verge of tears and my mom was balling, even dads friends were sort of teary eyed. Then it was time for us all to go up to the casket and see him for the last time.

I stared at him, not sure what to do. I turned away and found my mom. They then shut the lid to the casket. A few people who worked at the funeral home carried it out and to the hearse. I followed my mom to the cemetery.

I stood next to my mom and watched as she pulled a flask out of her pocket. She looked at me and handed it to me, I accepted it and took a drink. It was whiskey. I handed it back to her and watched as they lowered the casket into the grave.

After they were done I turned to face my mom. "I have to go." I said she nodded. I got into my car and drove back to the apartment. I k ow I had to work, but there was no way I was working in a dress.

I went to open the door and it was locked. I unlocked the door and sat my keys and the eulogy on the kitchen counter and walked ti my room. I changed my pants and put on a tee shirt.

I grabbed my keys and went to my car, driving to the whiskey. When I got there they were sort of busy which I dreaded. I poured myself a shot and downed. Tonight was gunna be a fucking busy night.