It had been a whole year since Gatsby had been murdered. For a few months afterwards Daisy,Tom, Jordan and I had been called in for questioning. Including some other people I had seen at a few parties.

Jordan always looked as wonderful as ever. Sometimes I would look sideways at her to find that she was doing the same. Her eyes never ceased to bring back a twinge of hope that she forgave me. I knew from the papers that her cheating at golf had stopped and she was once again successful.

I've visited Jay's father every once a week since I met him; I knew he was heartbroken about his son's death. In a way he resembled Gatsby- mysterious and kind.

Oh, I couldn't forgive myself about Jay's death. Many a moment, I would stare straight ahead; immersing myself in the horrible memory. I wouldn't weep, I would just stare. I wished I could just forget the state of his poor body when I arrived on the scene, much too late. His sparkling silver suit was drenched in blood where the bullet had hit him. He was curled up on his side,hand outstretched,eyes wide open.