I wonder what it’s like when people remember you. When you aren’t forgotten and nameless. Like this poor child in front of me. Gone before her time should have been up.
The coroner says she died from exposure. That no one cared enough to bring her in from the cold or feed her, not even the other transients out there. And unless someone comes forward she won’t even have a name. Just Jane Doe #3263827.
The only thing I take comfort in is that she probably went quietly. Went to sleep one night and woke up in a better place. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to have been sexually assaulted. Not that anyone in special vics would care about her.
I do what I can for her dignity. To try and ensure that maybe one day someone will give her the real name she deserves. I don’t hold out hope though.
She’s one of a countless pile of forgotten. I look at what to me is a damning sin against my existence. I should at least be able to ensure all these people have something to be remembered by. Even if it’s a true name and not some number for cross-referenceing.
Mayne one day.