Red Light. Green Light.

A bit of context: due to my insanely close grade to a B+ in my AP Lang class, I have decided to do the extra credit blog post that my teacher has graciously granted my fellow classmates and me. The prompt is to write a FanFic with The Great Gatsby characters in it. Yes, you read that right. A FanFic. This will be cringy as hell, so please bear with me as I try my hardest not to jump off of a cliff.

        Gatsby's party was in full swing, and guests moved about in his house with illegal alcoholic drinks and fancy yet distasteful food in their hands. With the chandelier bright and the place decorated with colorful ornaments, the mansion looked different than it usually did. Nick stood on the steps with Jordan drinking champagne when all of a sudden, a butler handed them both small papers addressed to them. Nick and Jordan looked at each other questionably as they opened up their notes. Inside was a sentence with scribbled handwriting.

                       Go to the third floor. The room you will seek is the first on the left.

        "Do you know anything about this?" Jordan looked at Nick inquiringly but he only shook his head and shrugged.

        "It's most likely Gatsby wanting to speak with us." With that statement, Jordan nodded her head in agreement. Arm in arm, Nick and Jordan mounted the steps, and as soon as they entered the room, Jordan shivered. Inside, the space felt chilly. Jordan moved closer to Nick, wrapping her arms around him, and he stilled. 

        "What are you guys doing here?" Tom looked at the two weirdly, and Daisy stood silently at his side. Nick took the chance to look around and saw that the area in question was a bedroom, most likely a guest, with a canopy bed in the middle.

        Jordan answered for both of them. "We were given a note to come here. What about you?"

        "So were we. Odd if you ask me." Daisy looked at the door and inched closer to Tom, who protectively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Was this Gatsby's doing? I haven't seen him all evening."

        As soon as Daisy said that, Nick noticed a lump in the bed and walked over cautiously. As he got closer, he realized it was a man. At first, he believed the man to be a random drunk who needed to sleep, but he realized it was Gatsby when he shook him. Gatsby didn't stir, and Nick looked back at the three other people in the room. "He's out cold." Nick chuckled but quickly stopped and gasped when he pulled the duvet off of Gatsby and saw the large stain of blood on the luxurious sheets that covered Gatsby.

        Tom swore under his breath and walked over to the bed. He checked Gatsby's pulse, but found there was none. "He's dead. The bastard's dead." Nick only stood to the side silently as Jordan and Daisy rushed to the bed and cried. It was only then that Nick realized the room was tinted green, the same color green that Gatsby so often had told him about when he gazed longingly at Daisy's house.

        "What do we do? Who do we call?" Daisy was hysterical, rightfully so, and looked at the door. She ran to it and tried to pull it open but couldn't. "The door's locked. Why is it locked?" She looked at the others expectantly but they only stared back with horror on their faces.

        "Wait, what's on the bed stand?" Jordan stared at the folded sheet and Nick picked it up and examined it in his hands. He read it out loud.

        "Oh, how unfortunate! Your beloved friend dead on such a delightful day! Oh, how unfortunate it really is for the fortunate!" Nick looked at the note, puzzled at its crazed words. 

        "What does that mean?" Tom spoke up, obviously shaken up by the events. No one answered him, and he sat down on the couch that was adjacent to the bed and put his head in his hands.

        "Who would do such a thing? What is this, a sick joke?" Jordan went to the door in a futile attempt to get it open, but it was no use. The door didn't budge. Jordan began to scream and pound on the door for help, but with the loud music, no one would be able to hear her. She must've realized this, because she fell to her knees and began to weep into her hands.

        Nick, who must've decided that he had waited long enough, clapped his hands together and walked to the opposite side of the room, where he began to search the wall. "There should be an escape route somewhere here."

        Tom looked up from his hands, and glanced at Nick wearily. "Why would you know that?" Nick looked startled for a moment before he straightened himself out and smiled creepily at Tom.

        "Gatsby told me about his secret escape route." Tom, put off by his friend's words, grabbed Daisy and pulled her close to him. He didn't say anything, but he felt as if there was something wrong with Nick's reply. Why would Gatsby tell him that? They weren't close for that. He didn't have to ponder for long though before Nick grabbed Jordan's hand and pulled her into the bathroom that adjoined the room. As soon as the door closed, Tom turned to Daisy and began wiping her tears.

        "Everything will be fine. Stop crying. We'll be able to leave soon."

        "How do you know that? There's a dead man right next to us! What if we're next?"

        "We won't be. Calm down right now. I can't take your crying." Daisy continued to cry but quieted down. Inside the bathroom, Tom heard shuffling and muffled murmurs. He didn't think anything of it until Nick walked out alone. "Where's Jordan?"

        "She needed to use the restroom. You'll be able to join her soon." With Nick's words, Tom felt a shiver go down his spine. The wording of the sentence felt... off. He didn't feel comfortable, so he took Daisy's hand and together, they walked up to the bathroom door and knocked, where they called out Jordan's name. With no response, Tom opened the door, and Daisy screamed at the sight that laid out in front of them. On the floor, her beloved friend was splayed out on the ground covered in what appeared to be her blood. The bathroom light was red, and Tom got an eerie feeling. He turned around just in time to see Nick point a shotgun at him. 

        Tom put his hands in front of him and yelled, "Nick! Calm down! What are you doing?"

        "Get out." When Daisy and Tom didn't move, Nick turned off the safety of the gun and moved it toward Daisy, where he proceeded to pull the trigger. Daisy crumpled to the floor in a heap and Tom shouted out and fell to the floor, holding Daisy in his arms. 

        "What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do this?" He began to cry while he rocked Daisy's limp body in his arms. 

        "Get out of the room. Right now." Nick shifted the gun to Tom, and he stood up with his hands in the air, walking out slowly. 

        "Nick, you don't have to do this. I'm your friend, remember?"As much as Tom tried to reason with Nick, he couldn't be swayed. Nick had a crazed look in his eyes, once that made Tom want to run away from him. But, because he couldn't, he sat on the bed, defeated. His wife, dead. His two friends, dead, and his other was close to killing him. He wanted to fight, but there was no point when he had no chance of escape.

        "So Gatsby was you?" Tom continued to cry as he said, "Why Nick? What did we ever do to you? We did everything for you."

        "You're all terrible people, that's why," Nick spat. "You all disgust me with your worthless riches and your appalling attitudes. You treat others like they are dirt on the bottom of your shoe, and it seems that I am in no way different to you. You have enough money to help so many people, yet you choose to use it for your own gain. You're a cheat and you're scum. The world will be better without you in it."

        "Then why Daisy and Jordan and Gatsby? What did they do for you to hate them so much? I'm your problem, not them!" Tom didn't know why, but he found himself pleading. 

        "You rich people are all the same. Selfish and disgusting and trash. I'll be glad when you're gone."

        "I don't understand. Are you not wealthy as well? Do you not treat others like your personal servants and use them for your gain? You're no different from us."

        "No, I'm not."

        "Yes you are. Refuse all you want, but you are just like us all, only you hide it better."

        "Don't say that! I'm not!" Nick began to grow panicked, and he grabbed at his hair and looked around like he couldn't comprehend where he was.

        "But you are Nick. You're selfish and disgusting and trash." Somehow, Tom was able to stay calm through the interaction and echoing Nick's words, but he knew he needed to find a way out, and quickly before Nick did something he would regret.

        "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Nick began screaming and crying, and Tom took the opportunity to jump at Nick and they both fell to the floor, where the gun flew out of Nick's hands and scattered across the floor. Both men looked at the gun before scrambling for it. Nick got to it first and clutched the gun, and Tom jumped on top of him, grabbing hold of the weapon as well. The gun was pointed, and a single shot fired, before two followed.

        There was silence for a moment, before the surviving man stood up and brushed at his clothes. Blood covered his suit and he began to strip as he looked at the man on the floor. Walking over to the dresser, he opened the first drawer and was relieved to find a suit neatly folded. He took it and quickly put it on, after which he walked into the bathroom and looked at the two women for a minute. He sighed, walked out, and went back to the dead person on the ground, where he picked at his clothes before finding a key in a pocket, no doubt the key to the door. He walked over and unlocked it as he looked back at the room before he swung the door open and closed it behind him. He was just locking the room behind when he heard a voice.

        "Ah, Mr. Carraway. I was searching for you. Would you happen to know where Mr. Gatsby is? I have some important things to discuss with him.

        Nick looked at the maid, startled by her sudden appearance. "No, I haven't been able to see him tonight either."

        The maid sighed before she smiled at him. "Alright. Well, if you are able to find him, please direct him to the kitchens. Enjoy the party." She bowed slightly before scurrying off.

        Nick watched her go as he locked up, and when he finished, he walked down the stairs, out of the main doors, and across the lawn to his newly emptied house. He got into his car with his packed things, turned it on, and drove off, leaving New York and its abhorring people behind.