Chapter 1

Snow fell from the world above, it was whiter than it was the year before, but still all I could see in the skies was that damn green light that haunted my dreams. The same one that kept me awake at night filled with questioning thoughts. The light, it blinded me, making memories that I didn't want to remember break through my barrier.

I've been in this mental institution for 5 years, they, trying to make a breakthrough with me. I don't see one happening anytime soon. They tell me Daisy is…a figment of my imagination. That the story I wrote for them was just my imaginary world and this was my way of covering up the truth. I don't really know what to believe though, this entire world is a bunch of bullshit. People are liars, fakes, and cheaters. I don't want anything to do with it. I lost the most important person in the world to be and now I can't bear to look at the world before me.

I touched my finger tips to the glass of the window; it was cold to the touch. I sighed loudly and set my forehand onto the cool glass of the window, looking out into a world that used to be so beautiful and glamorous, but now was just repulsive.

"Good morning, Mr. Buchanan" My doctor sounded from behind me and I turned my head to glare at the man.

"That's not my name" I growled at me and he sighed, shaking his head.

"I thought we've been through this, Mr. Buchanan," He sighed, "We've been through this every day for 5 years. You don't want to accept who you really are, the truth."

"What truth?" I questioned bitterly.

"The truth about what happened all those years ago, Nick," He came closer to me, "The truth that your name isn't Caraway, it's Buchanan." I slammed my hand onto the table, looking up at the man and giving him a cold glare.

"Don't you think I know that!?" I shouted, "That's the only goddamn thing you've been telling me for 5 dreadful years. Daisy isn't real; everything you know is a lie!" I shook my head and crossed the room to take a seat in a nearby chair. The doctor sighed sadly and moved closer to where I was now sitting.

"It's because Daisy doesn't exist, Mr. Buchanan." He spoke softly, "You made her up, this entire diluted fantasy world you've created, because you can't cope with what happened all those years ago. You don't want to blame yourself, so you blamed her. It was always her."

"Shut up" I muttered angrily.

"You're name is Nick Buchanan. You were married to Tonya Buchanan for four years, before she left you in 1923. You had a daughter together, her name was Jordan." I got up from my chair and walked over to the door.

"You're blocking out your memories, Mr. Buchanan," The doctor called, "You don't want to remember what happened. Daisy didn't kill the man Tonya was having an affair with. You did, Nick, and your friend, Mr. Gatsby, was blamed. You can't live with yourself knowing you hurt someone you loved so much." I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face the doctor.

"Gatsby" A name I haven't uttered out loud in years passed through my lips and I felt the memories fold back into my mind. Bright blue eyes, golden blonde hair, charming smile, but something seemed different.

"He's the man you write about in your stories, Nick," the doctor came closer to me, "Your best friend, from years ago. You hurt him, and you can't handle that." I wanted to block out all that I was hearing.

"Everything that happened to Daisy in your stories Nick, it's based off of all of the memories that you're blocking out. But instead of writing about it happening to you, you pinned it all on Daisy. You are Daisy." My mind was on fire, memories threatening to spill out and destroy everything I've tried so very hard to repress.

"You don't want to admit what happened was your fault, Nick" I could feel the tears behind my eyes threaten to fall.

"I…I don't…" I sighed and felt a single tear run down my face, Jay appeared in my mind, his smiling face looked broken, but this time instead of Daisy, he was holding me. My barriers were breaking down and there was nothing I could possibly do to stop it.

I could paint Jay's loving face in my mind, his strong warm arms wrapped around me, giving me comfort. Arms that I carved to fall into once more and forget the world, but I knew that wouldn't be possible. The tears were falling faster, drowning me in my eternal sorrow.

I crossed the room and collapsed onto the couch, closing my eyes, trying desperately to wake up from this nightmare.

"I…I love him" I muttered, "Our love, our friendship, it wasn't perfect, it meant everything to me." What we had was magical, Gatsby was…he was my best friend; I would give anything to have him back. To have what we had back, but he's gone. Everything I had is gone, and now there's nothing left that I can do.

"I know, Mr. Buchanan, I know," He moved over to the door and opened it slightly; "I think that it's best that I leave you alone with your thoughts for now." The doctor left with that, leaving me alone to deal with the memories of what really happened the summer of 1922.

I relaxed into the couch, keeping my eyes closed, but opening them a minute later. I looked out the window and instead of snowy surroundings I found myself looking at the warm summery beach right next to my home in Long Island, New York.