Bass Lessons ~ {Twiggy Ramirez}

The Bass.

Athena

There were multiple boxes with the music label on them. I was actually really curious. 

I knew my father was into music, but I didn't know really what music he was into, and what he did with that music. I didn't think he played any instrument, I just think that he was a music enthusiast. 

There were boxes upon boxes full of records. Ozzy Osbourne, AC/DC,  Alice Cooper, Pink Floyd, The Cure, even a little of early on Nine Inch Nails. It was amazing, seeing all this music and all these albums.

There were so many more artists in his collection, some I didn't know, some I barely knew, and some I knew very well. 

Out of everything there, though, Pink Floyd was my absolute favorite, their music was amazing and it reminded me so much of my dad because of how much we listened to it together. So, I set aside a couple records for myself. 

I found another box, full of picture frames of these artists, all of them autographed, however, one really stuck out from the crowd.

I picked up a black frame, the picture inside was Alice Cooper, with his arm wrapped around my dad.  I smile at the thought of it, he's told me the story millions of times, and I never seemed to get sick of it. 

I set the dusty frame off to the side, I was definitely keeping that. 

I move some boxes around,  I hear something knock against something hard, and after further investigation I come across a long rectangular case. 

My brow raises as I slide the box towards me. What was in it? Was it some type of instrument? I didn't know my dad ever touched an instrument. 

I open the silver latches on the side, and flip the box open... Inside lies a beautiful, all black, four string bass guitar. I have never seen one like this in person before.

I let out a small gasp, smiling, I take the beast out and hold it in my hands. I run my hands up and down the strings.  It was cold with my touch, but I was captivated by the guitar's every detail. 

Completely mesmerized, I strum my hand over the strings and immediately cringe. I would need some work if I wanted to play this.  

Realizing how much more work I needed to do in this attic, I put the bass guitar back in the case, and slid it off to the side. 

"Hows it going up there?" I hear my mother call up in a slur

I jump,  I was totally in my own world that I forgot that anyone was actually home 

"Good" I say "It's going good, mom" I call back down 

"T-that's good, sweeetheart" She says, and stumbles away.

I lift my arm that had my watch up. 

2:35, just as I had called, she would be completely shit-faced by now, and it would only get worse. 

I sigh, and slide another box towards myself, and begin to go through it

I knew I wanted to get through as much of my dad's things as I could today.

So, I go through box after box..

* * * 

About four hours later, I decide to call it a night on looking through all this stuff . 

I check my watch once again, it was six in the evening. 

"Okay" I whisper to myself, lifting myself from the position that I was sitting in