How I felt when I found out Myrtle was dead

After the hectic night where I ended Gatsby’s chances of taking Daisy from me, I also received the second worst shock of my life. Myrtle Wilson was dead, as she had been hit by a car. We did not know who it was, just that something had happened near George’s gas station, and I was a bit concerned so I decided to stop in. After hearing that Myrtle had gotten hit, I had to see for myself. I went up to the covered corpse, lifted up the cover, and saw it was Myrtle. Even though it hurt so badly to see her dead like that, I held it in for the most part. Even though I did not really want to see Myrtle again, I did not think she deserved to die. I even considered giving my coupe to George so Myrtle could have it to make up for breaking her nose just days before. A bystander said that the car that hit her was yellow, and that she seemed to be rushing out to it to talk to someone. I knew at once that it was Gatsby, that poor Myrtle saw the car thinking it was me, rushed out to it to talk to me, to run away with me, and that Gatsby hit her with the car. He didn’t even stop. Gatsby simply drove away, not a care in the world. I could feel the anger boiling in me. Gatsby failed to get one of the women I loved, and he had inevitably killed another. When I approached George to talk to him, he accused me, but I quickly cleared myself, telling everyone my car was blue, and was parked out front. I had so much hate for Gatsby in that moment, but I knew I couldn’t confront him directly anyways. I just wanted him out of my life. I told George what I knew, and although he didn’t really seem to believe me, I got some of his friends to stay with him. Gatsby’s time would come, and he would pay for his crimes. I left the gas station feeling cold, but knowing that my future would be secure.