Why I Organized Gatsby's Funeral

My good friend Gatsby just died and now I am back to where I started: alone.  Inside, I can not believe he is  gone.  His death was so unfair, he was not the one who killed Myrtle and he was not the man she was having an affair with.  Honestly, it was all Tom's fault for getting himself into this mess, but he would never get to take the blame.  Instead, poor Gatsby lie dead on the table with nobody at his funeral except for his father and the owl eyes man.  I tried and tried, but nobody could come to Gatsby's funeral.  Funny how all of these people would be regular attendees at his parties, but could not take a day to say goodbye to him.  It made me upset that Gatsby did not get the respect he deserved.  I could not believe how chaotic Gatsby's yard looked.  It was no longer the perfect green yard I had seen so many times.  Instead, there were kids running around writing curse words on his property.  How disrespectful!  I met his father and he was so proud of Gatsby and his belongings.  I organized Gatsby's funeral, because I owed him something for being so kind to me.  He did not get his wish to marry Daisy, but at least he saw her before he left. I knew that if I was the one who had died Gatsby would have done the same for me.  I thought back to the first time I saw Gatsby, standing and staring at the green dock light.  I could have never imagined that it would come to this- me mourning about a man that only a few moths ago I hadn't even known.  It was interesting that Owl Eyes appeared, because I felt like I was being watched.  He was there when I first met Gatsby and he was there at the end...

What I was Feeling When Myrtle was Killed

We were on our way home from New York when Tom pulled over to take a look at an accident up ahead.  Tom was anxious to see what was going on until.... he saw his mistress dead on the table.  His face was in shock when he saw the body of Myrtle Wilson on the table.  I knew what was going through his mind, but a man like Tom would never show how he truly felt.  The policeman told us Myrtle was hit by a car and instantly killed.  I felt so helpless seeing Tom react and George falling apart.  I didn't know what this would do to George, he had nobody except for Myrtle.  On the way home, I saw the tears on Tom's face as he thought about Myrtle's death.  That car, the yellow car, had not even stopped... but who was it? I had an idea, but it made me sick to think about.  How could Gatsby do something like this?  At home, I saw him in his yard and he knew what had happened.  I was in awe when I learned that Daisy had been driving the car and had not been able to stop. Gatsby would never say it was Daisy, he could not put her in danger.  I was scared and I was worried that Gatsby was in danger.  If Tom found out who it was or George, Gatsby might be targeted.  What could I do? I did what I do best and went home unable to deal with this horror.

What I was Thinking at the Hotel

First of all, I was not keen on going to anywhere with Tom, Gatsby, AND Daisy.  I didn't know what Tom was thinking about all the time Gatsby and Daisy had been spending together.  I have to drive with Tom and Jordan in Gatsby's car while Daisy and Gatsby are alone.  We had to stop at Wilson's to get gas and Tom is startled when he hears that the Wilsons want to go West.  I knew Wilson was on to Myrtle, but he didn't know Tom was Myrtle's secret man.  As we were leaving, I looked up and saw the miserable, longing face of Myrtle staring at Tom.  The group decided to get a suite at the Plaza Hotel and I knew this would be trouble.  Upon entering the room, I could feel the tension between Tom and Gatsby.  Then, Tom started questioning Gatsby about being from Oxford.  Tom knows.  He asked Gatsby why he was trying to steal Daisy from him.  This was weird, I did not want to watch what happened next.  Gatsby says Daisy never loved him, but Daisy admits she loved both Tom and Gatsby.  What was Gatsby doing? All of the sudden he was trying to steal Daisy away without even asking her. Then Tom criticizes Gatsby's bootlegging and tells Daisy to go home with Gatsby. Then, I remembered something... it was my thirtieth birthday! Oh I felt so old, and I wondered what my future would be like.  At the same time, my past would not disappear and I kept thinking about the West.  Anyhow, I started dreaming in the dark night....