The Impact Statement

Yesterday, my son’s father was sentenced to life without parole  in the Commonwealth of Virginia for the capital murder of my son Prince. It has been almost five years since my son was murdered, and I have had to endure a justice system that is designed to give the criminal every opportunity to defend – even when it sometimes comes at the expense of the victims.

During the sentencing hearing, it is the first time that the victims have the opportunity to address the court and the defendant. True to his nature, Rams didn’t want to face his victims in court. He actually told the judge that he didn’t want to attend the sentencing hearing. Luckily, the judge told him that he didn’t have a choice. He would have to sit through almost two hours of judgement, which was a small price to pay for the horrible crime he committed against an innocent child.

When it was my time to address the court, I requested that I stand at the podium that is usual reserved for the prosecution and defense counsel. I didn’t want to sit down, and I didn’t want to sit as close to Rams as I sat a few months earlier during my witness testimony. As soon as I started to speak, he shifted in his seat and tried to put his head down. The guard standing behind him yanked him back in his seat so that he was forced to sit upright during my testimony. I took a deep breath and read the following statement:

I appreciate that our justice system allows me the opportunity to finally address the court. It has been almost five years since I lost my son Prince. While I am sure that at least a few people in this court room would have preferred me to have been silent this entire time, but staying silent in the face of injustice is simply against my nature.


I would like to express my appreciation for this court. While many parts of the justice system failed my son over the years, this court and specifically Judge Bellows – you did not. I have appreciated the rigor and the respect that you have shown this case, and I am grateful for the, all be it sometimes bizarre, twists and turns of this case that brought you here.


I wrote a victim impact statement that I have already submitted to the court, but I have some additional things I would like to say this morning. Before I talk about the impact that my son’s murder has had on me, I want to address something that Mr. Ebert said to my family immediately following the verdict. He told us that we had all been “good victims”. I would like to make something perfectly clear today. I am NOT a victim. I am a survivor, a warrior, but I am no longer anyone’s victim.



A couple of months ago, I attended my daughter’s pre-school graduation. At a moment that should have been completely void of sorrow, I was overcome by gut wrenching pain. While extremely proud of my astute and precocious daughter, I couldn’t help but think of my son Prince who would never have the same opportunities.


As my daughter watched the tears roll down my face, I saw her face drop. She ran to me and asked me why I was crying. This moment was another painful reminder that the impact of my son’s murder, no matter how much I try to shield her, will inevitably have a ripple effect through my entire family – this will include my daughter and any other children I may have in the future. My children will never meet their brother, and there will always be someone important missing from my family.


The night I left Rams, he told me he would kill me.


In the summer of 2014, an officer from the Manassas police department called me. I was on vacation when I received the call. Detective Guyton told me that an inmate who was serving time on the same cell block as Rams had reported that Rams was trying to hire someone to kill me.


He went on to tell me not to be worried because Rams was safely behind bars, and that all the inmates who reported this news were as well. This gave me little comfort because I knew that I had no control over whether Rams stayed safely in jail.


The fact that Rams has been behind bars for so many years has offered some comfort, but even if he remains behind bars (which I pray he does), it will never diminish the impact that my son’s death has had.



I have survived and will continue to survive all of the horrible things that come with living through the murder of my child. I want the court to know these things because you should know at least a small slice of the impact of this crime.


I am brave, but that doesn’t mean that I am not afraid. I am not the same person I was before this crime occurred.


  • I look over my shoulder – jump from loud noises – worry about my safety and the safety of my family every single day.
  • I wake up in the middle of the night with panic attacks, after seeing the face of my son’s killer invade my dreams.
  • There are times when triggers that I cannot predict will throw me back into the hospital room the night Prince died. I will be sitting somewhere and suddenly be transported back to the moment when I am holding my son, and the doctors unplug him from life support – and I relive him bleeding out all over me all over again.
  • I have had years of therapy, trying to erase Rams from my mind – erase what he has done.
  • I think about Prince every day, and that means I also think about the fact that this body is cold and in the ground.
  • I often panic when I have to leave my daughter, remembering what it was like the last time I saw her brother.

The day my son was murdered was the worst day of my life. It wasn’t just my baby who died that day, but a part of my heart and soul left with him. From the moment I became a mother, I was changed. While Prince was alive, there wasn’t a moment when I didn’t think about where he was, who he was with, and how he was doing. After his death, I still think of his constantly. Instead of wondering where he is and how he is doing, I am now faced with a lifetime of mourning for the man my son would have become.


There is no way to quantify how it feels to wake up every morning and remember that your child with never again call your name, never have his first day of kindergarten, never again laugh, smile, or cry. I dreamed of one-day dancing with my son on his wedding day. I dreamed of all the moments we would share as he experienced the world for the first time. This pain is not something that comes and goes. I live with it – walk past it – go to sleep at night next to it – wake up face to face with it – and carry it out the door with me every single day.


In addition to the pain I carry with regard to my son’s murder, I live with the fear that my family will never be safe from Rams. I fear that if Rams has frequent and unsupervised contact with other inmates (particularly those who stand a chance to get out of jail), or access to the Internet, he will use this access to further terrorize my family. I have been informed by the Manassas Police Department over the years that Rams has offered to pay people to kill me. While I have no proof other than the police reporting this to me, I have no doubt that he is capable of doing this considering what he did to his own flesh and blood.


I want the court to understand the beautiful spirit that Rams took from this world. In the 15-months that Prince was alive, he made much a positive impact on so many people. He had a huge family who adored him – aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and a mother who would have jumped in front of a train if it would have saved him.


Prince was the type of person who could light up a room with his smile. He loved his people and his dogs. He loved to dance, and the artist Prince’s song “Kiss” would make him wiggle with joy. His favorite singer was Adele, and he had an unusual crush on the news anchor Ann Curry.


In his daycare, he was known for being the child who would run to hug anyone who started to cry. He loved to play with cars, blocks, hide cell phones and keys, and he had a way with animals that gave him the nickname amongst family as the “animal whisperer”. His eyes were so dark brown that they reflected light, and had a shine that will be burned into my memory forever.

When he died, he was just learning to speak, and had only said the word “ball” for the first time a couple of days before his murder. I am eternally grateful that I was able to hear him say Mama before I lost him, but I will also wonder what he would have said to me had he been old enough to have had the chance.

Rams has ruined his own life more than he has ruined mine. Prince and Shadow were the two greatest gifts of Rams’ life. They would have loved him no matter how flawed he was, and he was too sick to understand that his only hope in life was to be a good father to those boys.

Rams showed no mercy to Prince when he killed him. While I desperately try not to think about what it was like for Prince in those final moments, it is a thought that I have been unable to escape. I know it was painful, and I know he was scared. I have to live with the fact that I was unable to protect him from that monster.

I am concerned for my family, and I want for us to live the best life we possibly can live. Rams has already taken so much from us – Please do not allow him to take more. Please don’t ever let him out of prison.

Now I would like to address John Anthony, Joaquin Rams, or whomever you are calling yourself these days –

I am not naïve enough anymore to think that my words will change you or make you suddenly realize what you have done, but unfortunately for you – you have to sit here and listen to me anyway.

You did not break me. You should take no comfort in what I have expressed to the court today with regard to the impact my son’s death had on me and my family.

You used to say that you believed you must have done something horrible in another life to deserve all of the terrible things that you perceived were happening to you.

(At this point Rams started twitching in his seat, and laughing…the judge gave him the an extreme side eye.)

It should be clear, at least in this case, that this here – the fact that you are no longer a free man – this is happening to you for no other reason than because of the poor decisions you have made in THIS life.


I pity you because you are a pathetic excuse for a human – incapable of love or being loved.


I HATE you – I DO NOT forgive you.


Forgiveness should be reserved for people who are capable of remorse, and I know you well enough to know that is not possible.


May you rot in prison for the rest of your pathetic life. And may the system and your fellow inmates show you the same level of mercy that you showed Prince.








The Child Of A Football Player

In the past week, many of you have likely heard about the murder of Adrian Peterson’s two year old son.  Though the brutal murder of this innocent toddler should have made headlines regardless of who his father was, the fact that his father plays for the Minnesota Vikings became a center piece for the story.  At first, I wondered why the media was referring to this child as Peterson’s “secret child”.  After reading more, I learned the sad reality that Peterson didn’t even know this was his child until a couple of months before the child’s death.

Even though it appeared that Peterson had been robbed of the chance to know this little boy, some internet trolls had no problem throwing him under the bus for continuing to play football despite the news.  Before I move on to the real issue here – the child – let me just say some words in support for Adrian Peterson.  Peterson is one of the victims here.  He lost a child he never even had the chance to know (and not through fault of his own).  If he felt the need to dance on top of Mount Everest or run naked on the beach as a coping mechanism, I would have no judgement.  People grieve in all sorts of ways.  Many people choose to throw themselves into their careers in order to keep living.  This man also has two other children for whom he is financially supporting.  Keep living Adrian – it’s what your son would have wanted and it’s what your other children need.

Under The Media Frenzy:

While many of the articles I have read focus on Adrian Peterson being a football player, as if the death of his child is somehow more shocking than the thousands of other children who die after being abused, this story can serve as an example of many disturbing trends in our society.  Just weeks after my own son’s murder (at the hands of his own father), I continued to say that I hoped my son would be the last child who had to suffer in this way.  Though that was my hope, I knew that would never be the reality given the current state of affairs in America.

Adrian Peterson’s son, whom family members called “Ty”, was a happy and vibrant two-year old boy.  His mother had left him in the care of a man named Joseph Robert Patterson.  Without details about how much the mother knew about this man (or more importantly how much information the system allowed to be public information), I will refrain from judging her for the moment.  I will, however, come down harshly on a system that allowed this abuser to roam a free man long enough to kill a child.  It is now known that Patterson was indicted in June 2012 on several counts of simple assault involving an ex-girlfriend and her 3-year-old son.  He was also later charged for violating a no-contact order.  While he was sentenced to one year in jail for both of these cases, his time was suspended upon the condition that he attend domestic violence counseling.

Abusers and Deadly Plea Bargains:

In December 2010, my son’s father was arrested for violently assaulting his then 11 year old son.  To avoid a conviction and criminal record, Luc agreed to family counseling and the child was put back in the home.  Child Protective Services issued a report that the abuse was founded, however, records disappeared and Luc was allowed to go on as if this assault had never occurred.  Luc, just like Patterson, is an abusive man who prays upon women and children.  A few months of family therapy didn’t turn Luc into a loving non-abusive father, and “domestic violence counseling” clearly did nothing for Peterson either.  If Luc had served the mandatory year in jail for abusing his older son, Prince would likely still be here.  If Patterson had served the two years in jail that he was sentenced, I wouldn’t be writing about this story because little Ty would be here too.

My son, Prince McLeod Rams, and little Ty were both brutally murdered by men who shouldn’t have been free to walk amongst us.  While Prince and Ty had  different circumstances leading to how these men obtained access (Prince was forced into the custody of a killer by the courts and Ty was left with his mother’s abusive boyfriend),  the two cases have frighteningly similar roots.  Both killers found dangerous loopholes in a broken system.  Both killers had previous run ins with the law where they were able to convince psychological professionals and court officials that they could be rehabilitated and should be given another chance to behave.  As long as society remains in denial about personality disorders, more children will be at risk for deadly child abuse.  It is not possible to rehabilitate a sociopath.  My son, Ty, and all the other children who have been victims of our broken system (and those who will be victims in the future) deserve better from us – they deserve justice.

Shocking Statistics:

In 2011, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services analyzed data that showed that 80 percent of the 1,570 U.S. children who died from abuse were 4 years old or younger.  In 87 percent of these cases, the perpetrators were biological parents of the victims.  The Every Child Matters education fund reports that 15,510 children are known to have died between 2001 and 2010 from child abuse related incidents.  This is about 2.5 times the number of U.S. troops killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Though these statistics are shocking in and of themselves, the U.S. Government Accountability Office states that these numbers are underreported because there is no national standard for reporting.

When my son arrived at the hospital, nurses and doctors immediately called police and Child Protective Services as his injuries were consistent with child abuse.  Though every person who encountered my son in those initial hours after he arrived at the hospital was likely horrified at the scene, my son’s death went unreported for nearly a month after the incident.  Police didn’t release a press release of any sort and my son’s killer wasn’t arrested for over three months after the incident occurred.  I often wonder how many other cases where children have been murdered go completely unreported.  For months after my son’s murder, I was told that the case was “under investigation” and that authorities were not releasing the cause of my healthy little boy’s sudden death.

Ty’s story was reported because his father is a football player.  Perhaps my son’s story was reported because I am loud, and continue to scream at the top of my lungs.  Perhaps my son’s story was told because a brave reporter from The Washington Post Editorial section took a chance and reported about a case that officials seemed dead set on burying.  The sad reality, however, is all the cases that go un reported – all the children who are born into this dangerous world with no weapons to protect themselves – no Civil Rights – no voice – and no future.






Rest In Peace Shawn Katrina Mason

On March 19, 2003 Shawn Katrina Mason was murdered in her Manassas, VA condominium.  Shawn had been attempting to move on with her life despite the violent relationship she had with her son’s father.  Just days after her murder, Shawn was due in family court to finalize a custody agreement with Lucifer for their young son.  Shawn never made it to court.  Instead, the prime suspect in her murder (Lucifer himself) got custody of their son by default, and began to receive social security death benefits as a result of her murder.  At the time of her death, Shawn’s son was only three and a half years old.   For the past ten years, her murder has gone unsolved and is now what is considered a cold case.  

While many of you know that Shawn’s murder is somewhat connected to my son’s death, what you might not know is how the murder of a woman I have never met has impacted my life.  I never had the chance to meet Shawn, but I do believe that our lives have become somewhat intertwined.  For the first several months that I lived with Luc, he had me thinking that Shawn had left her son by choice.  I imagined that maybe she was a deadbeat mom or possibly had some sort of illness that rendered her hospitalized.  It was the topic nobody in the house ever seemed to want to talk about.



A few months before Prince was born, I began snooping around Luc’s house.  I had a feeling that something wasn’t right when Luc’s story about Shawn went from “she left” to “there was an accident” to “she lived in a bad neighborhood.”  In one of my searches, I found her baby journal tucked away in one of Luc’s closets.  In this journal, she wrote about how excited she was to have her son, and all about her hopes and dreams for him. Almost hauntingly, I felt as if I was reading something that I would have written about my own son.


Over the next few months, despite how I felt about Luc and my growning anxiety about the future of our relationship, I worried about Shawn’s son.  What had happened to this woman and why didn’t anyone want to talk about it?  The night I left Luc, I had to make a decision to save Prince, but I knew that in saving Prince I would be leaving Shawn’s son behind.  I felt terrible about this, but I knew that I had no rights to the child as he wasn’t biologically mine.


As I walked out the door that night, clinging to Prince tightly in my arms, Luc’s eyes went cold as he said, “If you leave I will kill you just like I killed Shawn and I will end up with Prince anyway.”



Chilling Discovery:

As the weeks skipped by after I left Luc, I eventually learned what really happened to Shawn.  It wasn’t an accident at all – someone went to her house intending to kill her.  In fact, about six months before Shawn died, Luc had his name changed to his son’s name (making his son a Jr…or maybe making his son a Sr.?) and subsequently claimed that Shawn’s life insurance policy (that had been in her son’s name) was for himself.  For the past ten years, Luc has been actively trying to get his hands on Shawn’s life insurance policy which luckily the state was smart enough to block from him.

Not a day goes by when I don’t realize that it could have been me instead of Shawn.  In fact, I believed it would have been me instead of Prince.  I would have wanted it to be me instead of Prince.  I never imagined that Prince could have been Luc’s next financial target.  Since the day I left Luc in July 2011 and began fighting for my son’s life and my own, I have felt as though history would repeat itself in some way.  Since Shawn, two others associated/related to Luc have died violently and Luc has standed to gain financially from both.  If we are to believe that Luc killed all three of these people (Shawn, Alma Collins (Luc’s mother), and Prince), that qualifies him as a serial killer.  All three motives would have been the same – life insurance proceeds.


The Future:

I have said this before, but I believe that Shawn had a hand in my son’s legacy – like maybe she sent Prince to protect her son and to protect others.  I believe Shawn is an angel just like Prince.  Shawn knew that it was likely police would never charge Luc for her murder, and that Luc would continue to terrorize and possibly even kill others.  If I had died at the hands of Luc, and my son had been left behind, I would have sent an angel as well.


It’s been ten years since Shawn was murdered, and Luc is finally in prison where he belongs.  It is troubling that it took this long, and it took something this bad happening, before he was locked up.  When Prince was still alive, not a day passed when I didn’t pray police would catch Shawn’s killer and I would receive a call that he was finally in prison.  I knew that if Shawn’s killer were behind bars, we would finally be safe.  That prayer was never answered.  Instead, I received the call I feared the most – that someone else had been killed and this time it was my little boy.  Police told me not to worry, because they would get him this time.  These words brought little to no comfort, because I didn’t  want my son to be their this time.  I wanted the police to protect us before my son got hurt, instead of promise justice after he was already gone.


All of Luc’s victims remain on edge awaiting the conviction.  I understand the risk I took coming forward and fighting this monster.  I was chosen to be Prince’s Mama for a reason, however, and I believe its because its not in my nature to just let this one go.  I will hold fast until the bitter end.  If my son had to be the one to bring Luc down, then he better stay down this time…right beside big Bubba where he belongs.


Rest in peace Shawn Katrina Mason.



Love At First Sight

Portrait of an “alleged” serial killer

In February 2010, I met Lucifer for the first time in person (after several phone conversation and email exchanges).  While in the above picture he appears to have aged about ten years in the three years since I first met him, I cannot say he didn’t look just as menacing back then – to some degree he did.  The public is without a doubt wondering how a pretty, intelligent, and educated woman would have fallen for such a thug.  (I have moments myself when I wonder the same thing.)  Well, I am here to tell you that love is dangerous.  I fell in love with the man Lucifer created specially for me.  He read me like a book and presented who I believed, at the time, was my soul mate and Prince charming.  Had I had the benefit of hindsight, I would have run away screaming.  Instead, I was caught up into a whirlwind fake romance and fell victim to one of life’s most hideous and dangerous crimes -relationship fraud.

Some of you may wonder how a woman who had her son murdered could still qualify “relationship fraud” as one of life’s most hideous and dangerous crimes.  I truly believe this to be the case because it was relationship fraud that precipitated these horrible events.  Had Luc not presented a “false self”, I would never have fallen in love with him.  Had I been exposed to the real monster hiding under the button-down shirt and khaki pants (this is what he wore when he wanted people to see the fake self), I would never have gone on a first date with this man.

Paul Ebert, the Commonwealth Attorney, said to me the other day that he didn’t know how I got wrapped up with such a man.  This is after telling me that good people didn’t hang around with Luc.  After spending a couple of minutes trying to explain myself to him, I realized that this might be a losing battle.  Unless you have been charmed by one of these people it is very  hard to understand. (His lawyers and the therapists who were all conned into defending him likely know this well)  I know this because I used to be one of those people who believed that this sort of thing could never happen to someone like me.  I would have watched this story on the news myself and said things like, “See…people like this should not have children, because they clearly are not responsible enough to properly vet their partners.”  I would have said this because I was ignorant and because I was naïve.

Love is dangerous and the natural emotions a woman feels when she has a child with a man can be deadly.  While Luc never came out and told me things like how his mother was found in his house lying dead on a plastic bag (and he was living off of her life insurance policy), he did have moments of rage and anger that scared the hell out of me.  That being said, these moments didn’t happen until I was already in love with the “fake self”.  As these nightmarish episodes occurred, I held onto the memory of the Luc I had first met and didn’t want to believe that this man didn’t exist.  I had been love bombed.

The relationship that I had with this man cost me more than most people will ever experience in their lifetimes.  The most hideous reality here is that this fraudulent relationship produced a sweet and innocent little boy.  That boy is no longer with us because his mother feel in love with an “alleged” serial killer.  His mother was a target who fell into a dangerous trap.  Instead of mourning what happened to this little boy, there are many who feel better blaming his mother for having looked at this evil man and fallen for his charm and charisma.  I have paid dearly for the mistakes that I have made, but I challenge you all to remember a time when you have made a mistake – to remember a relationship that when it ended you breathed a sigh of relief for having dodged a bullet – to remember regretting having fallen for someone’s lies.  All of us have done things for which we are not proud (if you haven’t then you are probably a little disordered yourself), but most of us have not had to pay for those mistakes with the loss of our children.

I ask you to focus this conversation on my son and his legacy.  Let’s not ignore what happened here - making ourselves feel better trying to believe this could never happen to us or anyone we know.  Not only could this happen to anyone, but something similar (maybe to not the same degree) has happened to someone you know.  If you ignore the reality of how dangerous people like Luc are, chances are greater that this sort of thing will happen to you.

I would be lying if I said I couldn’t remember a time when I looked at this monster and believed he was a good man.  Now, however, I look at this mug shot and I see the devil himself.  I see a man who is ugly, menacing, and evil.  I am thankful that no matter what happens to this man, no other woman (or man) will ever be conned by this man into believing that he is good.


Justice for baby Prince

True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

Over the past two years, there have been many moments in which I have been ashamed of my country.  I grew up believing that if I was an honest person, who worked hard to positively contribute to society, I would always be able to turn to our justice system for help in dangerous times.  When I needed help, however, the justice system was not there for me.  The justice system allowed my sister to be assaulted and for the criminal who assaulted her to walk free, for me to be falsely arrested instead of protected from my abuser, for the Family Courts to ignore the dangerousness of my son’s father, and for several public servants to place my son in the hands of a disordered man who I believe murdered my 15 month old baby boy.  I have lived a nightmare since the day Luc walked into my life.  This nightmare reached epic proportions the day I left him, and since my son’s death has reached the unimaginable.

I am not alone in my quest for peace.  Every person (man or woman) who has found themselves in the grip of a psychopath comes to a point when they also crave peace.  As MLK Jr. stated so eloquently, peace does not only come with the absence of tension.  To a large degree, the tension I had with Luc no longer exists – Prince is gone and Luc has no more control over the person I cared most for in life – my son.  The tension was also reduced the day I realized that Luc was a lost cause, and that I truly didn’t care what happened to him (beyond justice for my son).  Though I will never again be in family court with this demon, it is impossible to truly have peace until justice is served.  While many men and women who have dealt with a psychopath may never receive the justice they deserve, today me and my son received a part of justice I feared may never come – Lucifer was arrested this morning.

The medical examiner report ruled my son’s death a homicide and that he was drowned.  Since my son was only 15 months old, Lucifer could be facing capital murder charges and the death penalty.

This piece of justice feels bitter sweet.  Had the justice system been there for us before now, my son would be here to celebrate this moment with me.  I am not sure that I will ever be able to forgive my country for the terrible injustices that led to the death of my son.  I am not sure if I will ever forgive myself for following the law and waiting for justice my son would not live long enough to see.  That being said, I realize that if I sit back and merely complain without attempting to change the system – I become part of the problem.  When I read the words of MLK Jr., and think about the incredible legacy that he left behind, I feel hopeful.  While many of the injustices he felt during his lifetime have improved, it was not without struggle.  Right now, we are facing new injustices and new problems.  We are facing a crisis directed at our children.  It has become part of my legacy (and the legacy of my son Prince) to see to it that no other child faces the same fate and no other mother will have to bury her son in this way.

One of the most vivid memories I have of my son happened on one summer day (a few short months before he died) when I was dancing with him up and down the driveway in front of our house.  I looked into his beautiful brown eyes and asked, “Are you going to dance with Mama on your wedding day Mr. Prince?”  Prince was laughing hysterically as I spun him around in circles to the silent music both of us imagined.  While my son was not verbal, if he could talk his answer would have been “No”.  It would have been “no” because Prince would never have a wedding day.  He would never be old enough to get married, and we would never again dance together.  I tell this story not to ask for pity, but to ask for your help in finding the justice my son, and every child, deserves.  Justice does not come from one mother screaming at the top of her lungs about what happened to her son – it comes from the power of many.  The civil rights movement was not a movement based on the words of one brave man; it was a movement afoot in a country that was tired of living in the shadows of injustice.  I am tired of living in a country where the courts allow children to be abused and killed by disordered parents and caregivers.  How about you?

Today was a big day for justice, but it was only a piece of the story and a pebble on the path of justice for our children.  I have often told you that this blog is not about Lucifer (that is one of the main reasons that I don’t use his true name).  Today, however, I want to share a letter with all of my readers that I have written to Luc (but will never send).  I imagine this letter could be used over and over again for many woman (and some men too) who have escaped (or hope to escape) a psychopath.  I encourage everyone to share their “goodbye letters” in the comments of this post.  Say goodbye and good riddance to the psychopath in your life and pledge to have “no contact” with this person in both the physical and in thought.  This is the first time I will address Luc – and it will also be the last.


Dear Lucifer,

I regret a lot of things in life, but I will never regret leaving you.  While we were together, I wrote love letter after love letter – hoping and praying that you would one day prove to me that you were the man I wanted you to be.  You never proved anything, because being that man was impossible.  You have taken a lot from me, but you have not ruined me.  I was strong before I met you, but now you have assisted me in becoming wiser and stronger than I ever believed I could be.  Prince was an angel.  I have always known that he saved my life, but now I realize that he likely saved many others.  Sometimes I think Shawn sent him here to protect her son from you.  Maybe your mother Alma sent him so that you would stop killing, conning, leaching, and abusing.   Prince’s true mission was one that I will never completely know until I am in heaven along with him.

Today is the beginning of the rest of my life.  After this moment, I will begin to forget about you.  I will move on, fall in love again, have more children, and one day remember Prince without remembering his unfortunate sperm donor.   I am fairly certain that you will remember me forever.  You are likely thinking that your current situation is my fault.  Don’t be confused Luc, this is part of your disorder.  You always said that you wondered if you were being punished for the bad things you had done in a past life (because you didn’t have money, were not a successful singer, or whatever thing you chose to complain about that day).  I am here to tell you the honest to God truth – you are being punished for the terrible things you are doing in this life.  Everything that is happening to you right now is of your own doing.  That very large and angry man who wants to make you his girlfriend (or maybe already has) is sharing that jail cell with you because of what you have done to the people who tried to love you.

You have destroyed everything that could have been good in your life.  Now, you have nothing.  You have become what you have feared the most – powerless and utterly irrelevant.  In jail you will probably still tell stories about how you believe you were in concert with Brittany Spears, Rihanna, or whatever other artist you will claim to personally know at the time.  The difference, however, is that now everyone knows how delusional you are so these stories will be nothing more than the stories of a crazy man who sits in prison for the rest of his miserable life.

Enjoy the media attention and the televised trial because it will be the last stage you will perform on.  Eventually, you will disappear along with the average news cycle, and nobody will think about you as you rot in jail where you belong.  And remember – you are sitting there because of the things you have done.  You took Prince’s life after only 15 months.  My little boy touched more people in a positive way than you will have in your lifetime.  In fact, I would challenge you to find just one person who will admit (after they learn who you really are) that you have touched their life in a positive way.

Good riddance Lucifer.  You are finally where you were meant to be – in chains, powerless, and forever in jail.

Truthfully and finally,

Prince’s Mama