-Surely I saw his face somewhere.

-Yeah, whatever. You always seem to know someone.

-No, I’m serious! I think I really saw his face before. Somewhere. I just can’t put my finger on it.

My sister and I was at the 125th train station downstairs underground at the newspaper stand waiting for the number 6 train. We were passing time looking at the front cover of the magazines and newspapers. The main picture of most of the newspapers was of an African American young man. He was marked as a suspect of a crime.

-Oh, look! It says he grew up in our neighborhood!

-So, maybe you did see him. I guess it is possible with us living in the same city.

-Yeah. I guess.

When we got home to the new neighborhood we had just moved into, we saw shrine set up around the neighborhood and already the artist started putting up pictures of the guy who was shot by the guy in the picture in newspaper. I knew I saw the young suspect before but I just could not put my finger on it.

That night after dinner, we watch the news and apparently, the suspect, whose name is Joseph Mountain, who is only 20 is a drug dealer. In broad day light, went after someone who owed him money. He got the person who owed him money but also shot innocent bystanders. A child from a school across the street, a homeless lady, and a guy collecting cans.

That night I went to bed trying to remember, where did I see Joseph Mountain face.