A few weeks after the funeral
something happened to change Prince’s unbridled behavior. He received a letter.
It was a lovely March morning and Prince was thinking of his hot date with
Susan Bell. Purely sex. Who needed love? Not him, not
now, not ever again. He walked over to his post office box, expecting the same
old stuff, letters from family, ads, credit card applications, bills and notes
from his friends. Princeton quickly glanced through the
mail and started to dump it in his book bag when he noticed an unusual letter
post marked from Los Angeles!?
Wondering who it was from, he turned it over to see who the sender was, his
heart stopped, his hands shook and he dropped the letter to the ground. The
name VALENCIA HUNTINGTON loomed up at him. The chill creeping through his body,
kept him frozen to the spot for an eternal moment. Finally, he picked up the
letter and darted off to his room.
He locked the door and threw his
book bag on his bed. He wanted to read the letter alone, in the privacy of his
room, without any disturbances. He sat down on the chair in front of his desk,
picked up his letter opener and ripped open the envelope. A swarm of emotions
besieged him...excitement--fear...curiosity...joy...nervousness...guilt. It was a push and pull going on with his
heart. Part of him wanted to read the letter and a part of him didn‘t. What if
it was something he didn’t want to know? She had to have written this letter
before she died. Why was he just now receiving the letter? What the hell would
it say? Open the letter fool! His palms began to sweat as he pulled out the
single sheet of yellow notebook paper. He slowly unfolded it and recognized Valencia’s
handwriting right away.