Always fascinated by every little thing he did, she talked highly about him whenever he was the topic of the subject. She swore she'd be just like him when she grew up.
No matter how hard his job was, he made sure he had time for his family, made sure he didn't miss a single parent teacher conference, made sure he was there with them through everything.
She admired him. A lot.
Who was he?
.... Her father.
The only person who had always been there for her.
The first time she fell off her swing at the park, she was four years old. She remembered watching the colour draining from his face as he watched blood trickle from his daughters knee.
The first time she came home upset because she felt like she didn't 'fit in' with the other kids, she was nine years old. She remembered as he crouched in front of her, gently clasping his hands around hers.
"Hey... don't listen to them, ya hear me?" She nodded sniffing a little.
"No frunzas el ceño, sonríe."(don't frown, smile). He watched as she let a small smile grace her lips, her dimples faintly imprinting her cheeks.
"You're strong, I know you are." He told her. "I didn't name you Amari for no reason."
She smiled to herself as she sat at the back of her aunts car. It was dark out so the woman had to drive her home.
She slowly rolled down the car window, watching as the buildings passed by and letting the cool breeze lightly hit her face.
