Prologue

The rain fell harshly down upon New York that day. Weather it was by coincidence or by purpose, I could never be sure. It seemed too fitting that the rain matched my feelings and thoughts of the tragic event that had happened the day before. It influenced my decision to move on to a better place a life which I couldn't achieve while staying here. Everything there would be heavenly and white would dominate the lands around me. I could be reunited with the only person I could call a friend and a father a place where you can truly see God as he is.

Chapter One

My breath puffed white clouds into the air as I wandered searching. The declining temperature making every hair on my body stand on edge tons of goose bumps rising on my arms a prickling feeling travelling through my body.

I glanced around the glamorous houses which lined the waterline of long island. I just needed to find someone maybe they would know where my father lived. Around here everything was neat and all the little details taken care of.

The grass was cut to precision the verges clipped into wonderful shapes. I imagined the flowers were planted in a pattern of some sort, as the colours of the roses and the poppies matched exactly. Nothing was out of place here. My feet ached from walking from perhaps the furthest point of New York to her Long Island where the famous Mr. Gatsby lived.

The only belongings I had was a notebook and a pencil half the size of my thumb. My notebook was tattered and torn much like myself I believe. My cream dress had once been clean and fresh now it was stained by a number of things. I wore a grey cardigan the sleeves falling slightly past my wrist the torn strands of fabric hanging loosely by my finger tips as I fiddled with them.

I heard a faint tune being whistled through the trees moving my aching feet faster dragging them to find the source of the tune. I then saw a man standing in his house by a window. His house was not like the others around Long Island it was undersized compared to the impressive homes owned by the millionaires. His house was a sweet homely cottage but behind it loomed a castle.

I ran up to his window tapping it lightly with my finger so as not to startle him.

"Excuse me, but do you happen to know where Mr. Gatsby lives?" I asked hopefully, he turned and a second later he appeared outside of his door standing on the porch hands in his pockets.

"Yes I do. His my neighbour" he replied pointing to the huge house behind him casually. I raised an eyebrow and my mouth dropped open in shock,

"Are you joking because if you are I'll take my leave-" I began but he cut me off short in an assure tone,

"No I'm being serious I assure you I'm being truthful, you seem a bit young to be seeking out Mr. Gatsby"

"I'm not seeking him out I need to ask him a rather important question, and I'm fifteen I have no intention to what you may be implying sir" I told him

"I'm Nick Carraway" he said shaking my hand

"Marilyn Carter" my hands were frightfully cold against the warmth that clasped my fingers and hand. He smiled pleasantly as the rain began to drizzle in a soft misty way like a thin sheet masking the surroundings. The air was cold and crisp covering me like a thick cloak rain piercing through like sharp needles leaving my skin numb.

"What do you need to ask of Gatsby" Nick inquired

"I just need to ask him a question about something that is of the utmost importance" I said

"Well I'll grab my umbrella and I can take you round to talk to him if you'd like" Nick chirped rushing back inside as I nodded grateful for his assistance. Stepping outside grinning as if it were a lovely summer's day he opened the umbrella under the porch shielding us from the wall of fine water falling steadily from the sky.

"Let's go and see Mr. Gatsby Marilyn" he said we walked quickly down the steps and across the path the rain splashing off the stone onto my ankles making me shiver. We approached a gate surrounded by huge hedges and behind them I caught a glimpse of turrets spiralling upwards away from the mansion like a staircase to heaven.

We walked through the gate finally his house came into view and I gasped. Gatsby house was a palace a colossal palace I could never imagine something so beautiful and grand. Never had my eyes seen such a magnificent house and of such stately proportions.

Nick hurried me along all the while I looked up at the huge windows which revealed tiny pieces of the glamour of his house, we walked around the side of the house till we came to the front.

"Here we are Marilyn, do you want me to wait here for you?" he asked as we approached the large oak doors.

"No I'm fine thank you Nick" I replied he nodded before waving goodbye and dashing off into the rain leaving a trail of footstep puddles after him. I looked to the door, I could see my reflection in the rounded knocker and handle. I reached up on my tip toes and tapped the knocker twice, the deepness of the sound seeping through me like the rain.

Thump thump I heard my heart in time with the footsteps on the other side of the door. I took a sharp intake of breath as I heard a click, the door opened. I was greeted by a servant his hair groomed into a shaped parting his stubble scattered visibly across his face.

"May I help you?" he asked stiffly straightening out his uniform.

"Yes is Mr. Gatsby in? I need to talk to him, it's urgent" I inquired brushing a strand of my blonde hair out of my face impatiently.

"What's your name?" he asked narrowing his eyes at me his body ridged in its formal posture.

"Marilyn Carter daughter of Lauren Carter, make sure you tell him I'm her daughter" I answered. The servant made no acknowledgement of my reply and simply closed the door calling out to Mr. Gatsby. I stood awkwardly outside adjusting the satchel on my shoulder waiting.

"Marilyn Carter how may I help you young lady" a voice asked politely. I jumped and looked up into a pair of piercing blue eyes studying me thoughtfully. It had to be Gatsby just had to it looked like the photo my mother had shown me but this face was more defined older yet it showed little sign of age.

"Oh, Mr. Gatsby" I said startled by his sudden appearance. He nodded smiling pleasantly placing his hands in the pockets of his suit.

"My doorman says your Laurens child is that right?" he asked leaning against the door,

"Yes I am" I said still in shock

"You look like her you know when I last saw her I was eighteen" he trailed off

"My mom said I looked like you, before she died" his radiant smile was gone as I said this "she told me you were my dad, does she speak the truth?" I asked shakily. The rain drops spat at me as it began to rain harder but I was sheltered by a sloping roof which (looking at the rest of the house) probably had a balcony on top. The silence dragged on as Gatsby took the information in, I handed him my birth certificate his eyes pulling slowly into focus as he took it from me. He was silent for a long time before he spoke or looked at me.

"You had better come in Marilyn, away from this terrible weather" he said opening the door to let me in revealing his house to my willing curious eyes. On the wall hung a large painting of him, I followed him in awe glancing from the sparkling white marble to the sweeping staircase and tall rectangular windows, watery lines dribbling down the glass. He led me up the staircase I felt intrusive already so I restrained myself from touching the glazed wood which looked like very expensive.

"Sit" he said gesturing to a coffe coloured chair as we entered a study of some sort. Slowly and carefully I sat looking shyly at him, we were both quiet for a couple of minutes he looked like he was trying to figure out what to say but couldn't quite piece it together.

"If I'm troubling you I can go. I just wanted you to know" I told him breaking the silence standing up and heading to the door.

"No" he said in an urgent tone moving towards me placing a hand on my shoulder. "I didn't know how or what to say"he paused his other hands pulling stray hair back in place behind his ear, his hand shaking slightly.

"Marilyn... you look alot like me you have my eyes, and our hair is similar colour your features are like mine and... your mothers" he looked at me expectantly.

I turned biting my lip raising my eyebrows holding back my emotions from him, stupidly as tears escaped the corner of my eye. The warmth of that tear made me blush as it trickled down my cheek. Gatsby looked at me in complete shock, sympathetically. Out of all the reactions I expected I did not expect the reaction I got. Gatsby took a quick step forward wrapping his arms around me his arms around me his hand placed gently behind my head reassuringly.

I rested myself against his chest inhaling the scent, the vanilla and some kind of spice filling my nostrils. He held me there in place as if I would be taken away from at any moment and I cried because he cared about me. I was not precious like the various objects in his house but he cared for me just like a father should he was the father I never knew I had.

"When you like me to leave" I asked him, he leant back from me his arms on my shoulders.

"Go, go, why do you need to go... your my daughter you can live with me" he said spontaneously that radiant smile of his spreading across his face. I smiled laughing as he pushed my shoulders back and forth.

"Let's get you some new clothes" he said he called out to a servant, "Get this dress cleaned and dried and have a bath run" the servant dashed off a young women came in leading me off to the bathroom.

"Were going shopping once your done" he called as I walked off

"Okay I'll be quick" I laughed as I entered the bathroom where the steam rolled off the bath it was large enough for two people. The bath was like the centre piece placed in the middle of the room, the outside was made of mahogany but the inside was black I'd never seen that before. The floor was made up of slate grey tiles the gaps in-between a cream coloured.

Well this was different from home.