Lost Memories - The Great Gatsby Alternate Ending

Recreating The Past

When we had returned that night, Daisy did not speak- she remained silent, with a quiet, but contempt expression. When we arrived at the house, we sat down on the dock where the green light was, and she told me everything in lively color.
          She paced around excitedly, until Tom's booming presence came down to greet us.
         "Where have you been?"
      Tom had said, grabbing Daisy by the arm while motioning me to come back inside. Daisy, though, was totally unaware of Tom's aggressiveness with her, as she was still caught up in her own thoughts.
       The next morning, Tom revealed the news to me that he planned on moving. With Daisy seeming well again- or at least, better than she was- life had resumed again.
       Tom  had insisted for me to move with them- to get away from Jay- but I chose to rent out my old place in West egg, borrowing some of Tom's money.
       On that one sunny afternoon, when Daisy's face was hidden behind the shadow of her large sun hat, gave me a slip of paper.
         "Give this to Gatsby, Nick. Make sure to take care."
       She had said, as her and Jordan had loaded their bags into the car. They waved at me from outside their window, as their car eventually faded beneath the tall white buildings of the city.
      Shoving The small slip of paper into my pocket, I made my way back to west egg, feeling dazed beneath the blue, cloudless sky.

        When evening began approaching once again on west egg, and Gatsby's house had gone back into its slumber, I began pouring myself a cup of tea. I watched the steam rise into the air, evaporating into nothingness, when I heard a knock at my door.
    The orange glow poured into my house, the sky behind Gatsby stained with a pallet of warm colors. The beach was dipped into a golden, yellow hue, making the water glisten behind him as the sound of  the waves crashed subtly on the sand.
              "Nick,"
      Gatsby began, giving me a broad smile,'
              "Thank you."
      Slightly embarrassed, and feeling my face flushing, I looked at him in surprise as he smiled back at me reassuringly.
                 "Jay, There's no need for that, I'm just-"
                 "-Old sport, you rescued the past. Without you, I might not be standing here for all we know. And Daisy, thank you for taking care of her.
Because of everything you've done for me,I give you all of the gratitude that my heart, all my house (Gatsby outstretched his hand) and everything else that New York has to offer. I could never repay you."
                     "No need for that, Jay. I've always been here, and I plan on sticking around for a little while longer."
                The sunset warmed my face, outlining Gatsby's white vest.
                     "How is Daisy?"
                      "Oh, well, she had to move away with Tom-"
                  I went  for the slip of paper in my pocket.
                      "-However, she wanted me to give you this."
                  Gatsby, unfolding the piece of paper, saw her phone number scribbled hurriedly in blank ink. On it, it said, "For James."
                       "James? You told her your real name?"
                       "Well, my first name, anyways. I told her to call me Jay for short."
Putting the piece of paper in his pocket, he gave me one of his marvelous smiles one last time, before giving a goodbye as  turned for his house.
                       As the sunset and the orange slow gave way to a darkened blue sky, I sipped my tea in content. My typewriter, finally running out of ink, ended on my last word.
Though one could say Gatsby had failed in retrieving the past, he succeeded in planting a new garden. Through creating something new, and looking  forward towards the sunrise of the next morning, and the morning after that- Gatsby was able to create something much more within the soil of his old feelings. He was able to blossom a new, beautiful flower.
And within this garden, as long as we kept our heads up; as long as we kept treading towards the sunlight, silently wishing for a new beginning, sunrise could possibly; if not definitely;  give us the reality we dreamed of.