As I was driving with Gatsby I was feeling uncomfortable and
nervous. When Myrtle ran out in the middle of the road, it happened so fast
that I could not stop. It looked as if she knew who we were in Gatsby’s big,
yellow car. When I hit her, I could even comprehend what had just happened and
so I just kept on driving. I know I should have stopped but I was just so
shocked and I could not even believe it. I did not want to get in trouble with
the police or confront anyone. In the moment it seemed right to just keep
driving and leave the problem behind. I had known Myrtle, she was a darling of
a lady and I know I should have stopped and went back and helped her. Gatsby
was in the car with me and he tried to take the wheel and steer me away from
her in the road. After I hit Myrtle, the fear hit me. The next day, George
Wilson had come to see Tom and the feat hit me again. I felt the sorrow in myself
and the guilt of killing someone who did not deserve to die even though it may
have just been a horrible accident.
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