The Great Gatsby Epilogue

Don't read this if you've never read the Great Gatsy, it won't make sense. thought i would just upload this for fun. hope you enjoy 

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15 years later

The wind rushed passed me within seconds as the carriage rattled along. The black smoke drifting into the open windows, choking those closest to it, and the train hurried on towards the charismatic, bright sun, while I ventured on in the repellent direction, where such brilliant light did not bloom. It had been years since I'd seen the epic land I used to worship, its majestic beauty and forbidding secrets. Now all I remember is the thorn bush of deep red roses, spiralling into black.

Suddenly, the sway of my carriage came to a jerking halt, which hurtled me forward, out of my formidable memories, and onto the putrid and foul floor of the train. I could feel the heat of red as it flowed into my cheeks, and I leapt up with tremendous speed, consciously I turned and looked at the greying white heads and shrieking young infants.

Trying to ignore the piercing eyes, I clutched my belongings close to my sleep deprived body; I bound down to the platform, inspecting my surroundings. Nothing could compare to the shock that rushed through my body as I watched the fast-paced people rushing around, frantically trying to reach their destinations.

Fifteen years since I set foot in this place and I was flabbergasted by how much it had changed, and more so how it was the same. Filthy beggars were on their knees, thrusting out their dark, chocolate coloured hands, “A penny sir, just a penny?” one of the young children said. The man took no notice of the child; years ago he would have tossed a penny at the child, thinking snobbishly, “thank God that’s not me.”But everything was changed; people no longer showed sympathy for one another, they just wondered along in their own worlds.

Each penny drew the line between food or poverty. I hurried towards my destination, almost as hastily as the other people around me until a women slumped in front of me fell to her scorched, skinless knees. "Please sir, would you please spare me a penny?" I stare down at the lady, though she hardly even resembled one, and recognise her as the women I had been introduced to as Myrtle Wilson's sister, Catherine, all those years ago.

Truth began to dawn on me as I realise that not all had been fortunate as me. Once I left West Egg being a bonds salesman had no more appeal to me than boiled chicken. I had searched far for something that could keep my interest and at first couldn't find a job that suited me well enough, eventually found a perfect match; teaching.

Not just any teaching, private tutoring for those overbearing, oversized wealthy children who would get whatever they wanted until one day they would have to grow up and I was the one in charge of that. I had travelled many places and earned quite a lot of money, so I was not as poor as some of the less lucky people whose job had been lost.

Remembering Catherine Wilson, I look down at her once more, flinching as I did what I was about to do. Bringing my face up to focused on the choking dusky darkness of the platform, I stride on as if I had not seen her. Finally making it of the platform, I saunter into the light, which has no appealing affect on me, it makes me feel claustrophobic, like I'm in a dark closet. A man places himself in front of me. "Are you Nick Carraway?" he asks.

"Yes, that is me, may I ask who you are sir?" " I am the Buchannan's driver, I was sent to pick you up."I nod and follow the man, a lanky and scrawny youth, to the car. We drive down a familiar road into a familiar place; the valley of ashes. It is as barren and useless as before, except now it is littered with tents, rubbish and a fetid smell, indicating that it is occupied by lowly human lives. There were no more eyes of T.J Eckleburg watching the adventurous fools who thought they had a chance at a lifetime of fortune, there is merely just waste and rubble, like an old ruined castle.

We stop at a gas station and I hear the phrase "old sport" come from a distance behind me, I turn sharply, stupidly expecting him to be there, but instead I am welcomed by the face of a wrinkled sneering face of an old man.

 I still think of Gatsby, even now when so many years have passed. I remembered his magnificent rise to fame, something that every man and women wished to accomplished. A dream which they know now to be a fantasy. Gatsby, the perfect example of what I wanted, but hated. A life filled with gaining and taking. I could compare it to a diamond, it shined and sparkled rainbows, but it was hard to gain, it came at a price and the price wasn't cheap.

I feel as the car slowed it's pace, reaching the driveway of the Buchannan's home. A young women was sitting on a bench in the warm sun, reading a huge, dusty novel. It soon occurs to me this is Pammy, Daisy's daughter. "I hope she'll be a fool-a beautiful little fool," Daisy's words echoed through me, making me feel like a drum being hit.

The girl was indeed beautiful, but I could tell she was no fool, the expression of her face gave the impression she was very intelligent and aware of her surroundings. She smiled lightly at the novel, as if she found something amusing. I saw a body moving towards me,  it was Tom, he is different, less bulky, more lean. It makes him less intimidating.

"Pammy, get your fat nose out of that book and get back inside!" bellows Tom. She gives him a look of disgust and resent and walks into the house. "Nick, it's been years, how are you doing, come in and see Daisy, she's been eager to see you." he says to me in a pleasant tone that doesn't suit him. I go in to see Daisy, she is still like as beautiful and stunning as I remember.

As I make small talk, I see that they are the same, that after fifteen unbearably long years, they were more or less the same. Tom still thinks he is superior to everyone, he confides he still has women. Daisy refuses to acknowledge Tom's infidelity. They make the perfect couple.  

Later in that evening, after the formalities had been made, I talked to Pammy, she addressed me as 'Uncle Nick'. "You do not like my parents do you Uncle Nick? You hate them, I can tell." she says in a matter-of-fact tone. I am struck silent with surprise. It takes me a moment to recover. "Of course not Pammy, what gives you that idea?".

"You do, I know because I feel the same way." again I am struck silent. She moves slightly forward, closer to my ear, "can I tell you a secret Uncle Nick? Something you won't tell anyone?" she whispers. "Of course." "Uncle Nick, I resent my parents, they are everything I despise in a person; the snobbery, the lack of intellect, the domineering qualities.

All they do is try to control me and my father forever lectures me on how we white people have to stand together to show those lesser races who is superior. He calls it common sense, I call it racism. They carry on as if they have not a worry in the world, but I know all about my fathers affairs, I'm no child. But what I most resent them for is that they will not let me marry the man I love, well I will love to see their faces tomorrow night when they realise that they will never see me again because I plan to..." A streak of horror swept over her face.

"Oh, Uncle Nick, you cannot tell them, please don't, this is my only chance I have of happiness and the man I love will look after me. Please don't tell." I was hesitant, but  finally replied. "Yes, but please accept some money from me, I don't have a lot, but I can spare some." Pammy looks at me, eyes wide and moist. she takes my hand and applies gentle pressure to it. "Thank you Uncle Nick, thank you."

I have figured out my life. After I helped Pammy on her way, I took the time to think. Nothing ever stays the same, and all the resent I had for this place is now gone. Gatsby brought about his own death, Daisy and Tom were still at fault, but I resented them less for it.

Gatsby should never have done all that for Daisy, he should of done it for himself, he should never have built a life on lies. Unlucky for him people change. Everything changes and bad things do happen, but you must always follow your heart and never try to accomplish fantasies that will never happen, like in Gatsby's case having Daisy. I walk outside to the beach to stare at the sunset, as it lowers over the horizon, it warms up the land, and the darkness disappears into the now brilliant orangey fire of the sun.