I could imagine Gatsby, standing on
Hell's doorstep. Killing a man is a
sin, so with a unwavering resolution I decided not to call Tom. Instead,
I decided to approach Gatsby and to persuade him to change his mind.
Gatsby stood on the summit of the cliff, with a menacing glare in his
eyes. My foot stepped on a branch, and Gatsby turned from the crackle
of its body; Gatsby quickly pulled his
colt 1911 pistol from his belt.
"Nick is that you, I almost killed you? what are you doing here? Why didn't you call Tom?
"Gatsby,
you know as well as I do that what you are doing is nothing but blind
hatred.
Do you even love Daisy, aren't you just enamored by her money?
As I said this, I put my hand on Gatsby's shoulder. But Gatsby took this as an insult, and shrugged it off.
"Calm down Gatsby, I'm just thinking what's best for you."
I tried to grab both of his shoulders, but Gatsby responded by attempting to punch me. Instinctively, I drew closer to his body to dodge it, but the weight of my body pushed Gatsby over the ledge.
Slowly, Gatsby fell from my hand and the gleam of his eye sparkled with the depths of hatred.
In a blind frenzy, Gatsby shot into the air, and grazed my hair.
"Gatsby!" I shouted.
I hoped my voice and sorrow reached him in his final moment.
Even
though James' cold body lay on the pit of despair, I was glad that I
had ended James' ambition. Ever since I met Gatsby, Tom, and Daisy I
found that people lived for the future, but not the present.
They lived
in a dream, and never awoke from it.
The only way I could wake
James Gatz was to physically reprimand him. With that, I buried his
body between his mansion and the ocean, where his body would be
reunited with his
past and present.
