The Jail was in West Egg so I didn’t have to walk far to reach Daisy Buchanan. I was flabbergasted upon hearing the news of my warped cousin. As I entered the jailhouse I prepared myself to hear what had really happened during the course of that evening, and the fateful day, that Gatsby, Mr. Wilson, and Tom Buchanan were so brutally murdered. I asked one of the policemen where she was located. He pointed to the left with a somber expression. As I neared her cell, No. 2453 I was told that she was on death row. I held my head low the second I got there. She mumbled something under her breath, and as I lifted my head I'd regretted it as she was a horrid sight.She sat in the darkest corner that her narrow dilapidated bed had to offer, albeit little her was visible I could see her matted hair, her body too thin for the clothes she wore. Even through the darkness she had no difficulty seeing a figure of a man automatically acknowledging that it was in fact me and we started to talk.
The Truth is Told:
"Isn't it bad enough that I must sit in a place as vile as this? I needn't your presence as well, it only makes things worse. Please leave me be." She said with venom in her throat.
"I'd come here for nothing but the truth of all of the recent occurrences concerning your beloved husband, Jay Gatsby, and Mr. Wilson."
"So Myrtle's death does not peak your interest?" I stared with a great intensity on the little part of her slender form that was visible.
"As a matter of fact it does not. Are you willing to shed some light on this matter?"
"Seeing as I've nothing better to do, I'll do it with little happiness." She stood up and confronted me with a disgruntled look, placed her hands on the metal bars with a gentle touch, and started to speak of the events I so badly wanted to hear of. And yet I didn't want to hear them for fear of the police recounts being truth.
