New Light, New Life

Ruler Of My Heart

"They're a rotten crowd," I shouted across the lawn. "You're worth the whole damn bunch put together". I beamed at him; it was the first compliment I have ever given him. At first Gatsby nodded politely, but then he broke out into his wide and radiant signature smile, a smile I had rarely seen before, even when I watched him dance around in the empty mansion with Daisy, it was a rare sight, it was as if his smile was meant for mine and my eyes alone. I had turned around and started walking towards my bungalow, in search of my briefcase. I assumed it was missing and I did not have the time to search for it in the evening of the previous day.

I then remembered what had transpired the previous night, why Gatsby was still wearing his pink rag-for-suit, and why my evening was filled with macabre nightmares. Except, I had never gone to sleep. For every time I closed my eyes, in the slight darkness, I saw the grisly sight of Myrtle Wilson, or at least, what was left of her. Of course, Tom was most likely in worse spirits than me, barely managing to hold back the copious amount of tears, as we drove back towards the light.

"Hello?", A shrill, high voice called out through the telephone, "Who-"

Before the woman could finish her sentence, I interrupted her, no time for pleasantries. "I'm not going into work today" I weakly, but in an affirming voice, squeaked into the phone.

"Pardon? Who is this?" Her voice getting more pugnacious than before.

"Nick Carraway, I'm calling in sick because my doctor had diagnosed me with scarlet fever". An obvious lie, more obvious than the lie Daisy told about not loving Tom at least. The recipient on the other side of the phone just scoffed and hung up, at least I would not have to concern myself with an angry boss tomorrow, or whenever I return back.

The plush pillows hardly helped calm my mind on matters regarding the accident, the affairs, and of course, Gatsby. I found myself thinking of the great Gatsby more than before, how his blonde hair glistened during the drive he took me on, or the blue eyes that seemed to read me like I was a child's playbook every time my eyes met his. My heart raced at the thought of looking into Gatsby's eyes once more, he had this... knowing, but mysterious aura in his eyes. I chuckled at how I was blushing because of Gatsby, I would understand if I was thinking about a woman, but Gatsby? Is it even possible for a man to have these... feelings towards another? I had never really thought about if that really existed or not, but if it did, I would not really care.

I had thought that my little rant about Gatsby was over, until he had begun to plague more of my mind, although Gatsby had used me to get closer to Daisy, there was a small glimmer of hope that whatever we had was real, whether it be friendship or just an acquaintanceship, I hope that Gatsby will still be a part of my life.

I found myself drifting in and out of consciousness while laying on my simple bed, while I was asleep, I dreamt of Gatsby, and when I was awake, I was thinking about what I was to Gatsby, I was still pondering on what he meant to me. It was quite a conundrum that I couldn't answer. Gatsby is my dear friend, but I feel something more towards him. I try to ponder on it more, until I see a familiar figure walk towards Gatsby's mansion.

Adrenaline is rushing through my body as I recognize that the figure as Wilson, I don't have time to ponder how Wilson found out that the car belonged to Gatsby, or what he planned to do when he reached Gatsby, I just had to get on my shoes, and run towards his estate. When I had arrived on foot to the estate, I saw Wilson aiming his pistol towards Gatsby, preparing to shoot. In a moment of selflessness, and probably idiocrasy, I lunged towards Wilson in a desperate attempt to save Gatsby. We wrangled like two street cats over a spare piece of fish on the road, in the corner of my eye as we were dancing a tango of death, I saw Gatsby rush to help me. But Wilson had gained the upper hand, and next thing I know, there was a searing pain through my arm, and I had fallen into the pool below me. I could barely focus on what was happening, between my arm bleeding out and the water in my eyes. I was surprised that I could even think about what was going on.

During my last few moments of consciousness, I had witnessed Wilson being pinned down by Gatsby's servants who had heard the gunshots, and Gatsby's eyes staring into mine.

"Gatsby I-" Words I tried to choke out until the pain interrupted me.

"Why? Why would you try to fight Wilson off for me?" Gatsby asked incredulously, with a hint of shock.

I could not answer in my last moments of consciousness, but in the back of my mind, there was a voice that answered for me.

"Because I love you, Jay."

I am then plunged into darkness, unable to see his reaction to my declaration.