My name is John and I work in a public yet private office builiding. A place where you can know everyone but not actually know them. I have grown gllose to a few of them, yet none really know me. For pete's sake, they don't even know my real name. My name is John Peterson, not Eric Mason. Either way, most of them know both names.

When I first began to work here, Rhonda actually said I looked familiar, leaving my heart in my throat for a full thirty seconds before she dismissed it as a small case of deja vu.

I have always wondered if they really knew who I was, what would they do. If they would have those “Oh my gosh, I worked next to him for ten years and didn't even know it” moments.

I was the Casey Anthony or OJ Simpson of my time. Convicted of a murder that everyone was sure I did, but could not prove. The only difference is, I really am innocent and of course, nobody believes it.

It is true that when a married person ends up murdered, their spouse is always named a prime suspect. And almost always pled not guilty in court, and were proved guilty. But most really were guilty. That's not me.

My wife, Sara was found behind our church in the dumpster on Sunday night on a cold December night. A church. Where we all should feel most safe at. She was found without jewelery and naked. This upset me because not only had someone done unspeakable things to her, but they had also left her freezing. But the prosecution said I did that to frame it as being a robbery. Where had I been? I had been at home watching that stupid football game, that I just couldn't miss, while she was strangled and dumped in a dumpsted while it snowed.

When the earth became alive again, the bitter snow meleted, I was arrested for my wife's murder. But I was proven innocent, ironically, the day it began to snow again.

I think of this, how I was so young and happy and then the next week, I was named Most Hated Man in Amerca. Somehow, everyone seems to have forgotten about me and my wife's case. They still haven't found her killer.

I could restart. Maybve ask out that cute girl named Ally and see where it goes. But I fave the truth, I cannot hide behind a fake name, background in a new city. Life moves on, but can I with it?