After finding the letter that purported to be from Prince, Marie had a meltdown. She checked all of the windows and doors to her house wondering if someone had gotten in and placed the letter in her valise. That was crazy she thought, as how would they have known about the letters or where she kept them. She had dissolved into tears feeling so uncertain about everything at this point. When she finally stopped crying she said to herself, I am going to write him another letter...he said if I did he would answer and if he does I will choose to believe that it is really from him.
My dearest Prince,
I have read the letter that is supposedly from you and was very shocked and surprised to do so. It seemed as though even heaven was mocking me. Dead people do not write letters to the living. They rarely communicate at all from the other side of the veil. How do I know this is really you? How do I know that this is not some demonic trick to further unsettle my poor soul? If you are really Prince and in heaven with the Lord, then I must ask that you answer these questions. I ask because unless the good Lord tells you, there is no way that you could know the answers. Where was I exactly when I received the news of your death? What major decision have I made since I wrote you last? What is the greatest desire of my heart at this point in my life?
If you are who you say you are and are where you say you are, then you will know or have access to the answers and be able to respond to the questions. If you are not, then shame on you for creating hurt and anxiety for a tired and ill woman. A part of me wants for you to know the answers and really be Prince. Another part of me is afraid to even consider that this could be true, because then if it is not, I will feel even more upset, let down and abandoned than I do now.
Okay, that is all I have to say for now except...where ever you are Prince,
I love you and I always will.
Marie
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Letters to Prince
FanfictionA dying woman who loved Prince in life, has mourned his death quietly, alone and without anyone with whom to share her grief for the last two years. Out of true frustration and a need to share all that she feels, she begins to write letters to him...
