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Roger Mubin Monologue

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I pray this letter has reached you safely, else I would be unable to explain my grim fate to you. However, it is likely you know the precise events which followed our brief encounter as you greatly influenced what happened henceforth. Nonetheless, I will continue to tell the tale of my woes in case you have overlooked something. Let me begin by introducing myself: I am Roger Mubin, the little boy who you lured into your home after he had attempted to mug you. If you have forgotten this name, know I have never forgotten yours, Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. That name is forever ingrained in my mind, as if you have taken a knife and carved it in my brain. I apologize for my harsh tone, yet I am sure you understand as I have been rotting…show more content…
If it at all concerns you, these are the events which occurred after I left you. I was rightfully excited after you handed me the money; it was the first time I was receiving something I wanted rather than unwanted garbage which others had forced upon me. I was so thrilled at this thought, I spent the night sleeping in front of the department store which carried the blue suede shoes of my dreams. This means, sometime after midnight, I sprinted approximately twenty blocks to go to a department store which I knew would not open until morning. With adrenaline shooting through my veins, I was not able to sleep for over an hour. To make matters worse, I was woken up at the crack of dawn by the sound store manager screaming in my ear. I convinced him I had money and was not some loafer taking advantage of him, yet he remained wary. As soon as the store opened for the public, I darted in and picked out the perfect pair of blue suede shoes. Yes, Mrs. Jones, they were perfect. I know because I practically walked the length of the whole department store ten times before choosing the right pair. I then proceeded to walk to the counter to buy this perfect pair. Do you know what the store owner said Mrs. Jones? He carefully examined my ten-dollar note and he said I was a fraud. A fraud! Can you believe that Mrs. Jones? Continuing on, being called a fraud really pushed me over the edge, especially since a woman as ‘honorable’ as you had given me the note and I did not doubt its authenticity for a second. So, I threw that perfect pair of blue suede shoes at the store owner, called him a dirty liar, and dashed away in hopes the police would not catch me. Unfortunately, my fate was not unlike that of the Gingerbread Man, and the police did eventually catch me. Still believing I had done no wrong, I tried fighting the police off. I was able to land a good blow on the short one’s cheek, yet that was the
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