The Great Gatsby *Side Project*

Chapter 9- The Ending I Saw

(IMPORTANT NOTE---This is written, as in the book, in Nick's point of view. Also take in point that the ending in chapter 8 didn't occur yet and I am continuing on from the part from a few days after Myrtle's death, and NO ONE else is dead yet or any major events haven't happened-other then Myrtle's death and everything before that.

ALSO- The characters belong to Scott Fitzgerald, but this story ending belongs to me as I spent a while on it and please do not copy. All Rights Reserved. I don't mean to offend anyone and all the characters and their actions are a fiction of my imagination.

Sorry, had to get that out there.

This book ending will be divided into three chapters as the ending is long and intense

-Love, M)

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How I wish I knew what to expect on that Day two years ago. The memories were still yet to be unthawed from my mind. It all happened too fast- As do all life changing instances; I had learned that one morning in East Egg.

I sit on my couch at home as I recall the day, where, for the first time, I had ever felt sudden heart break. Not for me, but for the only person in Long Island I felt proud to call my friend.

I gasp with ecstasy as I recollect the memories of Gatsby.

He was the only one out there I had not grown sick of. Though, if I must be honest, even the cruel reality of the careless rich had gotten to Gatsby, as it did to me. That's why I had to get out of there. I was sick of the rich ruining innocent lives and throwing their rightfully deserved mess at others, and moved back home. Though I did live in West Egg for a short period of time, it was now long enough for me.

Gatsby had changed that Day. I had seen a side to him that I never had before. It all began by the Buchanan home.

Ever since Myrtle's death, none had known what had happened to George Wilson nor could they find him. I was at the Buchanan household to confront Daisy before I left as it made me sick that Gatsby was taking the blame for her.

I wanted to talk to her in a quite room, that was all; assure myself that she couldn't let Gatsby possibly go through this all alone.

It had been my fault as I had brought the together that day, and I felt I needed to fix it.

As I ponder over this now, two years later, I realized something about myself. I am in the middle. I am the type of person that hangs along the side lines. I needed to stop fixing things-that's what started this in the first place.

Back to the story, I think its about time.

I brought them together on that rainy day, it had even been in my home. I needed to fix it. It's the least I could have done.

"Come in old sport." Tom had said to me as I arrived at their front gate.

I felt sickened as I heard a sharp mockery in his tone. I almost didn't go in, let alone shake hands with him.

I went in merely thinking about Gatsby and his smile etched into my mind and that was the only thing that kept me sane. I had told them I was going away for a while, moving away that is.

As Tom had seen what I came for and lost interest, scurried to get another one of his books. Daisy looked at me in a way as if she wanted to ask me something; But she swayed away and asked me about the weather instead.

I was about to bring up my reason for attendance when all of a sudden we had heard sounds of banging on the door and shots rhyming together as thumped on the ground outside the Buchanan residence.

"Im'will make ya pay! God sees all I tell you!"

It sounded like Wilson, even though I hadn't seen or heard much of him. Tom had ran to the front to see the commotion as he opened the door a slight. Wilson then took his chance to stomp into the room, as I could see him past the trophy case in the long, dark yellow hall.

Anger had been brought upon the Buchanan home as he plastered his eyes all over looking for something. I had started to rain heavily, I remembered.

I know it was you, ya lying girl! You killed my Myrtle!" Wilson yelled.

I had looked over at Daisy and the Golden smile she so well played at was drowned in horror as she yearned me for help. I couldn't possibly do anything. It was too quick as I looked at the time passing by- It had only been seconds. Yet it felt like an eternity.

Wilson's running and sounds of clatter all mixed with Tom's yelling got closer as the sky grew darker.

I got to Daisy and told her to run from the kitchen as Tom had spoken that Wilson had a gun.

"YOUR MAD! She hasn't killed Myrtle you fool! It was that fool of a man you call Gatsby!" Tom baffled.

"Na that's where your wrong. I have proof! SEE HERE!"

I snapped my head round the corner and found Tom holding Wilson under him while Wilson had his gun in his arms that Tom was ripping from his hand.

Bullet shots were everywhere, and now there were holes in the once clear, smooth white spots in the walls. They were dented.

I looked over at Wilson's hand and he was holding a tape.

"All of it's on 'ere! The rich people were driving by and were recording for something, and they got the whole thing on tape! I already called the cops! Their coming!"

I looked again over at Daisy. She was now in the dining room as opposed to the kitchen hastily picking up the phone.

"What are you doing Daisy!? You need to leave right-"

"Hello?! G-Gatsby its me Daisy. Help me! Take me away! Yes-ye-yes i'll run away with you just get here fast now before I cant't escape! You need to!"

Daisy rushed around hastily. I had not known what to do. It was a mess. All because of me.