As their yellow car barreled down the street, seconds away from hitting a woman who had run out into the road, all Daisy did was scream. The woman beside Jay Gatsby was frozen in place.

Jay knew he had to act quickly. He wrapped his fingers around the wheel and cut hard to the left, away from the woman in the road.

What happened next Jay Gatsby could not quite remember. The last thing he heard before his world turned to darkness was Daisy whimper and whisper a name. But the name was not Jay or Gatsby.

It was Tom.

Four days later Nick Carraway was sitting in the hospital. He didn't know why he felt like he should go visit Gatsby, but he had done it everyday now. One thing had been consistent for those four days. Gatsby remained unconscious.

In two days the funeral would be held. Nick knew that Gatsby would probably want to go to it, but with him recovering from the accident, he didn't think that he was going to be able to stand up let alone be discharged from the hospital.

Perhaps it was better if Nick didn't tell him at all. Tell him that Daisy remained unscathed, and that her and Tom had rekindled their relationship. Maybe he could tell Gatsby they had run off without saying goodbye or giving Nick the address.

But Nick knew that Gatsby would find out eventually. Gatsby would start digging just like he had before when he wanted to find Daisy, and once he would, Nick knew he would discover she died.

It was three days later. Daisy had been buried yesterday, less showed up than originally expected, insisting the heavy and unremitting rain was dangerous to drive was still unconscious, still not knowing the woman he spent years pursuing was gone forever.

The day Gatsby was finally conscious enough to say his first words since the accident was a week after. "Daisy, get me Daisy."

It was then that Nick had to tell Gatsby the one thing he could think of saying. "I'm sorry."

A look of confusion spread from the furrow in his brow to the vacant look in his eyes. All the older man could mutter was one simple word over and over. "No."

"I'm sorry, she didn't make it, she never woke up."

"Daisy can't be gone." His fists balled up and clutched the sheets of his bed. "She's my treasure."

"They found this in your pocket." Nick handed Jay a timeworn photograph of a young Daisy. "Thought you might want it."

Jay took the picture in his hands and brushed his fingers against the aged photograph. He remembered the day he took that picture of Daisy. The picture captured her beauty perfectly. She was smiling and laughing, her flawless skin was turned a light shade of pink as she held a set of pearls Jay had bought her when they were younger. He scrimped and saved every penny to buy those pearls for her.

" ." A young nurse walked in with one of his new servants.

"Came to pick you up." The man said simply.

But Jay didn't want to leave. Because if he left this room, he would have to face reality. Reality was something he didn't want to face, he didn't want to be in a world without Daisy. Without a word, Jay accompanied the man back to his home.

Tom Buchanan looked down at the grave of his wife. None of this would have happened if they hadn't gone into town. None of this would have happened if Jay Gatsby hadn't meddled in his marriage. He bent down and placed a small bouquet of flowers next to the headstone.

Getting into his car, he headed for George Wilson's run down auto shop. He was surprised when he got there, to see the shop deserted. It looked even more dreary than it had before. The windows were boarded up, and a note was posted by the boarded up front door. MOVED OUT WEST- GW. Tom Buchanan ripped the paper off the boards and crumpled it into a ball. He always got what he wanted. He wanted his mistress. But she was gone too. He balled his fists before throwing the paper onto the ash coated ground.

Both of the women in his life had left with another man and would never return.

Jay Gatsby stared into the pool, the face of a broken man looked back at him. He was nothing without Daisy, she was his purpose in life. She inspired him to acquire this fortune, all for Daisy. He took out that same faded photograph of Daisy. Too busy getting lost in her face to notice the footsteps approaching behind him.

"I'm moving back to Minnesota, Jordan decided to come with me." Nick Carraway called from the back porch as he walked toward the pool.

Nick Carraway reached out his hand, and shook Jays. "It's been a pleasure."

Still Jay didn't respond. Nick turned and began to walk away. "Later, old sport."

Nick stopped for a second, smiled and then kept walking towards his car, leaving the forlorn Gatsby to continue mourning the loss of his purpose in life.

That night, just like many nights before, Gatsby gazed off into the direction of the Buchanan Mansion. The change this time was that there was no more green light, showing him the way to his love in the dark.

The green light was replaced by an intense darkness, Gatsby felt like this was the first time in his life he had seen a shade so black. The moon was dim, with only a sliver being shown. The moon usually reflected onto the water, casting a beautiful beam of light into the bay. The moon barely casted a thing, leaving the water dark and cold.

A month passed, the only thing Tom and Jay both did was sit in their homes and stare at pictures of Daisy, longing for her company. People always said that time helps after losing someone close to you, but for Tom Buchanan, the man who got what he wanted, this whole time thing wasn't working for him.

So Tom did what always seemed to work out for him when all else failed. Payback, revenge, retribution. Things that Tom Buchanan sorely needed. He knew what he would do. He would end the man who stole his wife from him. Jay Gatsby would suffer.

Jay Gatsby once again looked into the reflection of the pool. The dark circles under his eyes reminded him just how depressing his life had become. Daisy's picture looked the same, her happy face frozen in time. Jay wished he could see her laugh just one last time.

The clouds began to cover the sun, making the pool water a dark murky shade of blue that looked most unwelcoming.

Jay heard footsteps behind him. "Still here old sport?"

No response.

Jay turned just in time to see the barrel of a gun pointed right at his chest. He recognized the man behind the weapon to be Tom Buchanan. "You stole her from me, so I'm stealing something from you too."

Gatsby went to grab the end of the gun but before he could he felt a hit to his chest. Jay had been shot.

His body went back and splashed into the water. As Gatsby sank to the bottom, he let go of the photograph. His life was over, he didn't need to hang on to something that would never be. He let go of the picture, he let go of Daisy.