Daddy's Little Girl

“I was just eight years old. I asked mommy why your face was so cold? I didn't want to believe that you are dead. It was too early for you to be in that coffin bed. You passed away March 7, 2006. You’re gone, there is nothing I can fix. That night I waited for you to knock on the door. But you didn't, now I know you’re not in my life no more.”

“Aaliyah we have to start going,” my mother insisted. I took one last look in the mirror. Black Little Kids Rock shirt tucked in my purple and slightly white striped skinny jeans; Uneven cut brown hair with purple and blue bangs, topped with a small purple clip hat, releasing a black veil over my right eye. “Aaliyah!” my mother yelled. I grabbed my jean jacket and rushed to the porch.

Breathing in the autumn air, I closed the screen door behind me. Fallen red, orange, and yellow leaves crunched underneath my black beat up Converses. The cool breeze scattered the leaves in all directions, sending a chill down my spine. Carved pumpkins sat upon every other porch. From an unknown location, a sweet cinnamon apple scent flowed into my nose. The lovely scent was eventually contaminated by a cigarette my mother smoked beside me. I noticed she was matching with the black and orange decorations on a neighbor's house. Four long blocks later, we walked on the dark orange brick road. Leading us to our destination, my former middle school. In the distance I could see Mr. Flora, my former music teacher, loading the black van of instruments, with the help of my two friends David and Ignazio. Already sitting in the van, my friend Angela waved hi to me. David, Ignazio, Angela and I are part of a band I created called “Forgotten Melody.” Before we gathered in the van, I took a quick selfie with the band. “Goodbye Jersey City and hello New York City!” we shouted.

During the ride, my body went against me. From not eating breakfast, my stomach kept rumbling. My bladder wanted to explode after every bump in the road. Besides a few complications, the ride was filled with laughter, hums, old stories, harmonies and naps. The views of New York City from my window were fantastic. Crowded streets, bumper to bumper traffic, long lines for Broadway shows, and bright lights of advertisements. That’s New York for you. My heart began to sink into my chest. Just knowing that any second we were going to arrive.

“Here we are ladies and gentlemen, New York’s Hammerstein Ballroom!” Mr Flora announced. Walking through the heavy brown doors, my eyes widen. The ballroom was enormous. Tables and chairs covered every inch of the ground floor. Four balcony levels from left to right filled with red comfy seats, as crew members were running across the stage making sure everything is set up. Walking towards us was David Wish. “Welcome to the Little Kids Rock 10th anniversary gala!” We followed him to this room where we met with a photographer. He placed us in various poses. Then we asked if we can do a picture where we jump. He agreed. On the count of three we jumped as high as we could. When our feet touched the ground we rushed over to view it. “Awesome, that is so cool,” we agreed. The picture came out perfect.

My palms began to sweat, heart pounded out of my chest, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I whined.

"You are just nervous. You will do great! I love you!” My mother exclaimed. I gave her a hug goodbye as my band and I went backstage. Mr. Flora went on stage and gave a speech about me. He began how I was a member of his choir and I would spend numerous times in the practice room writing in my notebook. He described the day I introduced my poem I written about my deceased father. With the help of my peers, we created a heart touching song from the poem. He recorded us performing my song, and posted it on YouTube.

“'Writing a song about my father and sharing it made me feel better,' said Aaliyah,” he continued. He explained that I wrote it as a way to cope with the hardship of becoming a teenager without my father. “Here is Aaliyah Baez singing 'Daddy’s Little Girl.'” The crowd applauded.

I make my way to the lonely microphone in the center front stage. I stand in front of thousands of silhouettes staring at me. Blinded by the spotlight, I began my speech that I practiced and made up twenty minutes prior. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Aaliyah Baez and I’m fifteen years old. I currently attend Jersey City performing arts high school. I wouldn't be on this stage right now, if it wasn't for Little Kids Rock.” I thank the audience and gave a signal to Ignazio to start playing his guitar. I start off with some ooo’s. Then Angela playing piano and David playing bass came on my second verse. Along with percussion from other Little Kids Rock members. Jake Clemons, a well-known saxophone player, entered the stage. Holding back my tears, I belted my third verse.

“Daddy I lost you when I was just a little girl. To me, you’re the greatest dad in the whole wide world. Daddy, it’s just not fair. That you have to watch my life go by up there.”

I cued Mr. Clemons in and he began to play. Goosebumps hugged every part of my body. The high notes coated the atmosphere. The beautiful melody suddenly started to fade. I began my last set of ooo’s. The percussion and piano softened. Singing my last verse with just me and the melody from Ignazio's guitar.

“I’m always going to be Daddy’s little girl. Don’t worry, one day I’ll be next to you, looking down on the world.”

The last note from the melody echoed throughout the ballroom. Suddenly, through the break of silence, thousands of people crying and applauding. I received my first standing ovation. Trying to enjoy every cheer and every clap as much as I could. I took a bow and fist pounded Ignazio. I quickly got off stage and hugged my crying mother. “Your father would've been so proud of you,” she cheered. I couldn't help but to look up and smile. He was.