John Edelman Monologue

In the small, peaceful village of Rhinebeck, where tourists and travelers from all over the country venture through, a wooden cottage stood just off of Main Street. Within the cottage lay a middle aged man by the name of John Edelman. His short, scruffy beard had begun to remodel itself into a plain of grey, and his once youthful olive skin had turned pale with creases around his eyes and mouth. Most villagers, if asked about John, would have nothing but positive remarks. Kind, quiet, and caring, he often engaged in projects to improve the community, and had come to the aid of many friends. However, only John himself knew the unfortunate truth. Contrary to popular belief, he was a greedy aging man who only took part in activities and relationships
Subconsciously, I knew nothing was wrong, and I had a feeling it had something to do with the money he owed me, yet letting myself push those thoughts out of my brain, I officially had become John’s victim. Not his first victim, though. Far from it. He was a skilled thief, a master manipulator, and without realizing, I had fallen into the center of his trickery. John opened the door just as I had entered his driveway. For three years he had been planning this moment, carefully articulating an alibi, dreaming of the money he would gain from our
But, for some reason, I trusted John, despite the fact that I had never heard of any daughter of his. John had been very outspoken in his mistrust of the banking system, which is about the only part that actually made sense. Ignoring all red flags, I wired my entire savings account, $85,000, into his. This would pay for his daughter’s school, and any expenses that would arise due to the robbery. I received a gracious thank you letter from him the next day, and that would be the last time John ever recognized my existence again. After a week, I decided to give John a visit. As I arrived at his home, a sold sign was posted at the front of his lawn, and the house was completely dark, and vacant. It was done, I had been played. For years, I never heard from John, or even anyone ever speak his name. After contacting police enforcement, they concluded that no John Edelman had ever resided in Rhinebeck, nothing could be done. Five years passed, and my savings account had hardly regrew, and my life had nearly been destroyed, all by the handiwork of one single man. But soon, a miracle occurred. Exactly seven years had passed since the incident, and I was sitting in my one room apartment, which I rented after my home was foreclose. John’s face had been posted on the news channel, and an alert was sent