Author's Note: This is my first non-Harry Potter fanfiction work. I actually wrote it for a class. ;) The assignment was to pick a scene or an implied scene (as in, you know it happens, but Nick doesn't describe it because he wasn't there or doesn't want to) and write it from somebody's perspective other than Nick's. I chose the scene in which Myrtle gets hit, and a little bit before and after it. Some lines are from the book, because we were supposed to do that in order to place the scene and thoughts into context. Obviously, those belong to F. Scott Fitzgerald, and not me, as does The Great Gatsby. I just realized that there is a Gatsby section on FF, so I decided to post it up! Enjoy!
"PLEASE, Tom! I can't stand this any more." I had no choice but to stop the quarrel then and there. All I could think of was the terror of losing Tom forever over this little row, over my silly impulse. I had been lying to myself and to Jay if I had ever thought that I could will myself to leave Tom. I was faced with the fear that my words that afternoon had been irrevocable and that I would have no other choice but to carry out my threats of leaving.
"You two start on home, Daisy," said Tom. "In Mr. Gatsby's car." I had been hurt far deeper when my parents had kept me from Jay, when Jay had left, when I had realized the pain I would constantly feel every day I was married to Tom and not to Jay. But never in my life had I worried for my future. I've found that you can live with the agony of a love long lost, but to live without the constant ease of luxury is a life I have never chosen. For Tom to threaten such a life, to even suggest that he did not want me back, was frightening, though not painful. It was not Tom I was worried of losing. I had never had Tom to begin with. But I was not ready to part with my life for Jay. Jay could not promise me a forever of anything but love.
"Go on. He won't annoy you. I think he realizes that his presumptuous little flirtation is over." I know far better than Tom that Jay never had it in his mind to end our "presumptuous little flirtation." Marriage had not stopped him, a cross-country move had not stopped him, and the discovery of our affair would not stop him. But it would surely stop me.
Jay and I silently walked to the elevator. He looked like a defeated ghost and would not speak until we reached the elevator. Jay simply stared at me for a time, still with the intensity of love his gaze always held, but with an added hint of suffering. It had hit Jay too suddenly that I could not leave the life to which I was accustomed. Still, defeat was never on his mind.
He broke the silence with a simple question, one that had been racing through my mind as I battled between what I wished I could do and what I knew I had to do. "How much of it did you mean?" It was not accusing, but rather gentle and sweet. The hope that rang in his voice was one I suddenly realized I no longer had, and with that I broke into a mess of tears as Jay shielded me from public view and into the car.
He pulled the car into an empty lot, and there we sat in silence, both of our minds racing. Alone with Jay, a wide range of motions allowed themselves to pour over me. For so long I had blinded myself into becoming the fool I only wish Pammy would grow into. I realized I would never be that fool. That realization was too much for me, and I suddenly wanted to rush back into the hotel and give Tom a true piece of my mind and leave him and elope with Jay and never have to see Tom's face again, because I meant it with all my heart when I said I loved Jay Gatsby. I suddenly wanted to take Jay's face into my hands and kiss him and tell him that I never meant anything I said to Tom and that I would leave him right then and there. I suddenly wanted to yell at Nick and Jordan for the nerve of trying to bring me back to an impossible past and for just sitting there and not stopping me when for the second time in my life I chose Tom. But all I could do was stare at Jay and let the mascara-stained tears stream down my cheeks as I realized I would never do those things.
"I think it would help to steady me if I drove."
"If you think that would be best." He did not ever doubt me or question me or even press for a true answer to his question. He simply switched seats.
I was out of the parking lot nearly as soon as I hit the gas, and I did not stop until I reached the house. All I could think about was putting the past behind me. The more I though about the past, the faster I instinctively drove, hoping to outrun it before it could catch up to me.
"Daisy?" He had been on worrying about me worrying. "Tom was awfully outspoken in the room. How outspoken do you suppose he'll be when he returns home to you?" Tom's reaction was another one of those troubles I was racing away from.
"Jay, I'm worried. I don't want to think he'd lay a hand on me, but I've never done such a thing to him before." The truth was, I was fearful that Tom, drunk as he was, could hit me, but most of all that he would hit Jay. It was then that the thought occurred to me that perhaps for Jay to be gone was just what I needed to be able to face my life.
"Daisy, stop!" I had been passing a car coming on from the opposite direction when some woman came into the road, waving her arms like a maniac, almost as if she knew me. Panic stuck me, but the part of me that just hoped to wish away Jay and my feelings for him kept my foot on the pedal, in fear that if I were to slow down, my past would have the chance to catch up. It was that stocky woman or the oncoming car, death for the maniac or death for Jay and me. Of course I chose the lane that would save my own life.
Jay reached over across me and turned the wheel in the direction I had just come from, but his reaction was too late. Together we held the wheel as I ran over the largest animal I had ever killed with a car, and then I accelerated to make up for whatever speed was lost upon impact, still running.
The panic was clear upon Jay's face, but I could tell he did not care as much that a woman had been killed, but that I had done it, that he had let me take the wheel. I could sense his instant worry over what he must have thought was a tainted conscious. Realizing that I would not stop, Jay pulled on the emergency break with all his force. I had been so focused on the road that I had not seen the motion, so the sudden stop took me by surprise as I lurched forward and toppled into Jay's lap. He gently sat me in the passenger seat and took the wheel.
"I'm sure she was killed instantly. There's nothing we can do now but get you home safely." He held my gaze just long enough for me to understand the hidden meaning behind his words. Jay held me blameless in his mind, a victim of that night's hectic events. By getting me home safely, he meant not only to protect me on the road, but also in the public eye. As he took the wheel, he took the blame.
"Thank you, Jay." I meant it most sincerely, as the greatest sense of relief began to calm my trembling hands. I could close my eyes and make myself believe it was the truth. I could almost begin to pretend I did not love Jay Gatsby, so long as he was a murderer.
"See this side road coming up on the left?" I nodded, my eyes still closed. "It's got less traffic. Police don't bother to come down this way." He took the dark path to West Egg, silently parked his car, and arranged for a cab to take us to my house.
For the first time since that afternoon, we sat holding hands and staring into each other's eyes, just as we had before Jay had talked me into having him over for lunch. As we neared the house, his grip grew tighter, but I slowly began to let go.
"I'm going to wait around and see if he tries to bother you about that unpleasantness this afternoon. Lock yourself into your room, and if he tries any brutality, turn the light out and on again." He spoke as if it were a command or a direction, but there was a softness in his voice that was allowing me to make my own choices and would accept that fate. I kissed him gently on the forehead, almost so that we did not touch.
"I don't trust him. I'll stay here all night if necessary." He gazed into my eyes for approval, and I smiled back. I needed to forget Gatsby and our past if I was going to live with my decision, as I had for the past five years. This would last a lifetime.
"I really did mean everything I said."
Author's Note: Well, now that I've written something other than HP, I'm all for writing other things. Please review, and let me know if I should do more Gatsby or another fandom. I'm really up to any challenge. This was fun!