Do you know me? I bet that you do. You hear about me everyday, if you listen to the news. I’m not a celebrate, a politician, or anything like that. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. They are all somebody well known, while I’m someone almost no one knows a all. I’m an average person, just like you. Then why, you may ask, am in the news everyday? Because I’m the man who was beaten to death, and found last night in the street. Because I’m the woman who was raped and found lying in a gutter. I’m the child that gets beaten by an alcoholic father. I’m that one kid who was found dead in a trashcan on the corner of the city street. I’m the boy who starved to death and was just found to late. I’m the girl who froze to death in the mountains. I’m part of the family that died in a car crash. I’m that one guy who got shot in a bar fight. I’m the wife abused by her husband. I’m the remains of a body found under the bridge. I’m the old man who died of a heart attack. I’m the child abducted from my school. I’m one of the thousands that died in the tsunami. I’m the unborn baby cut from my murdered mother’s womb. I’m one of the soldiers who died in the war. That’s who I am. You hear about me everyday, and feel sad and angry at my death, at the loss of another human life. You might even cry for me a little, but then something happens in your life, and you forget all about me for the rest of our day. You think about me, for a little while at least, but after a while, you can’t but help to forget that I ever existed. Its okay, I don’t mind. I’m just one person, just one person in these millions. There’s just one thing that I don’t get. Even though you mourn for me, even if you don’t forget me… Why don’t you even know my name?