From her eyes || Poison Ivy

5: November 12th

Tuesday
1:00pm

"Good afternoon, Red!" the chipper voice of Dr Quinzel sounded as she entered my cell. It was unexpected to hear her this upbeat as though she was definitely happier than I was generally, she'd always talked to me at least somewhat professionally. Today she'd addressed me as if I was no different to a high school pal.

"Err nice to see you Harleen." I replied awkwardly, giving a slight smile. Sure one may feel that one shouldn't have to respond politely or nicely toward someone that was part of an institution that you were forced to be locked up in, which is how I'd felt since I'd got here, however Harleen hadn't been offensive to me so far, at most she was naïve about helping me. I could as least help my stay here be a little more bearable, albeit don't be convinced - I wasn't serious about being rehabilitated. One didn't get given a gift such as becoming entwined with the plant neural network, and be able to ignore the suffering of said plants even if it was criminal.

She pressed the record button on her tape recorder and went through the usual motions, before placing it in an apt place so it could hear both of us.

"Thanks for getting me into the rec room yesterday," I thanked, giving her a slight smile. "I didn't think one would be able to get me out of this damn cell."

Harleen blushed lightly. "Well it took some hard work but I finally convinced the Warden. You'll be allowed to go in the rec room every Monday, as long as you don't act up. Capiche?" she explained, smiling.

I scoffed, leaning back to look at her. "Sure, you got it captain." I replied, rather sarcastically for myself.

After this she opened her black satchel and passed me an item covered in cling wrap. I raised an eyebrow but didn't object as she placed it within my reach, and so took it in my hands and unwrapped the cling wrap layers. Inside was a plastic tin, which I opened to find a meal: a cooked chicken breast with egg, and a side of apple and peanut butter.

My mouth opened into an o seeing the real food after months of garbage fake meat and bread, and I couldn't help but let my eyes flick up to her then back down to the food.

I heard the smile in her voice. "I saw the crap, pardon my language, that you were eating the other day that the asylum gave you and so I felt after working so well with me that you deserved something for your stomach," she explained, watching me as I used the plastic fork she had provided to pick up the food and ram it down my throat. Unladylike but I was desperate for it.

She continued. "I looked around in you file and I read that you had demanded organic food when you first arrived here, which clearly didn't work out. It also mentioned you didn't eat plants which I found rather humourous but I brought you an apple as I wasn't sure what your thoughts on plant produce was."

I finished up the meat and egg and took a second to look at her, wiping my face also. "Why would it be funny that I don't eat plants?"

She shrugged. "I just assumed as there are carnivorous plants and animals eat plants, that it would work out with you being an omnivore."

I paused. In my past life I had been vegan, something that I'd felt very strongly to change once I actually became one of those plants that were being eaten. "It's kind of complicated, but I only eat plants that have been humanely killed by myself. I find it cruel if anyone else has slaughtered them, because none of they do it humanely, and they are bred in plantations."

"Plantations? What's wrong with-"

"When you think about plants as people, living organisms that fear and feel pain, plantations can be perceived as such as slavery. Many plants gathered in one location before being mistreated and packed up and sold to the highest bidder."