Chapter 12
It was all so new to her, so unfamiliar, yet she instinctively reacted to it in the most natural way imaginable. A part of her had fallen in love, and it scared her. Love was such an impossibility she kept telling herself. She had sacrificed that possibility the moment she accepted that she would never be understood by another human being, driving her to change the world to reflect her views. The day, many moons ago, she had become Poison Ivy.
However, Pamela Isley was becoming different, splintering away from the thorny, embittered Poison Ivy. Ray's gentle openness filled her with an unbridled ecstasy that overwhelmed her senses. Preceding thought, her cheeks blushed with a familiar shade of red shared by her rose's petals as she read his letter for the first time. It didn't make sense, she told herself, over and over. They were both so different from each other. Their perspectives on the world, their values in life were as far from each other as their physical bodies. Why then did she feel so strongly about him? He represented everything she hated, but was the only person she loved.
For the past several days, she had admired the heavenly beauty of nature, but she found equal beauty in the honesty of his letter. It was so disarmingly beautiful how he wondered if he was being weird. The frailty in his question mixed with his determination to still say how he felt melted her icicle veins. He knew exactly how she felt because he felt the exact same way. She felt such a powerful connection with him. While Isley mentally enjoyed dialoguing with Evelyn, their common bond of environmental values was their only link. Otherwise, they were two entirely different people. Evelyn was a mindless puppet, a sycophantic yes man.
Conversely, Ray was different. He was strong and passionate, but at the same time gentle and compassionate. Akin to Ray, Isley instantly felt she too had to express how she felt. Pen in hand and paper in sight Isley began to write, and as she did, she began to smile. She paused a moment, taken aback at the immediacy of her natural smile, and continued to write:
"Dear Ray Adams,
I want you to know that I don't think it is weird at all. You were right when you said once that we are a lot alike. We are. I thought I was the only one who did this, but each day, I wait for your letters in anticipation. I like talking to you too. Oh, and I'd also like to thank you for something. I have a special rose that I love and used to always keep at my side in my cell. It was you who inspired me to plant my precious rose outside in the little garden they have there. It probably doesn't sound like much I guess, but, for what it's worth, it means a lot to me.
Sincerely,
Pamela Isley"
