Aisha Knight is the youngest daughter of the music producer, Suge Knight. She is an apple of his eye, a child that is the most loved by him, and is ultimately controlled by him. Aisha wants desperately to start her own music career and break free fr...
We arrive at The Source Awards, and I honestly feel like I'm in heaven.
See, this is that life I dream of.
That glamorous life.
This is what I want, and I just don't understand why my father won't let me have it.
Why won't he let me live?!
Anyway, I am dressed really cute, but classy, if I do say so myself.
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I happen to have tons of clothes, all kinds of dresses, fit for all kinds of different occasions inside of my huge closet. Too bad that I never actually get to wear them anywhere.
But today I finally do!!
And it feels do good to finally be let out of my cage.
My father stays by my side at all times though, just like he said he would.
Honestly, who even needs a bodyguard, when my own father is like one.
My eyes nearly bulge out of my head when I see all these celebrities in such close proximity to me.
And I also feel kind of bitter.
I feel like, that should be me. I could be one of them. I certainly have the talent for me.
But I would never get to experience that, because my Daddy would never let me.
Honestly, not that I think about it, it's almost cruel of him to even let me come to this thing with him, knowing how badly I want to be a part of this life, and that I would never get to have it.
I know that the only reason he took me was to ease his guilt for sabotaging me with all those record labels I have sent my demo to.
And the more I think about it now, the more angry I start to get.
For some reason, my mind wanders to that Eminem guy I've overheard my father talking shit about on the phone. The white guy that my father's goon are supposed to roll up on and intimidate sometime during the award show.
And suddenly, I want to be petty and get back at my dad.
I get this sudden urge to thwart his plans by finding this Eminem and warning him of my father's plans.
That would be a huge betrayal, but who cares.
I am so tired of him always controlling my life.
And so, I begin scanning the crowd and looking.
And, honestly, Eminem is not that hard to spot.
My father did refer to him as a white boy, and there's literally like only this one white guy sitting in the audience in this whole building.
Here he is, I guess, wearing a white wife beater and baggy pants, bleached-blond hair and two small earrings in both of his ears, sitting only a few rows away from us.
