Why I ran out in front of the car...
Many have wondered why I ran out in
front of the car that fateful night. You see, there were countless individuals
at my funeral that misunderstood my intention. I wasn’t trying to end my life,
despite my unfortunate situation which would’ve justified said actions. My
husband (or really, my sad excuse for
a husband) George had me locked up in our flat above the garage. He’d finally
become aware of the affair. Hmph… Took him long enough. He’d lost his top after
he discovered the dog collar Tom had bought. I remember the aching pain I felt when
he hit me, and the feeling of anger that bubbled within me when he’d saunter downstairs
to the shop and nonchalantly tell his customers about how he was going to “take
me away and go west” as if he really cared about me… as if he really loved me. George
would never fulfill the expectations and dreams of the “perfect husband” that I’d
stirred up as a child. I knew that when I married him. But Tom… my Tom… he would. He would take care of
me. I just needed to get him away from Daisy.
These
hopes helped cloud the pain that came with each blow from George. He had
grabbed me harshly, with one hand on my neck and one square on my jaw and had
dragged me to the window. His eyes were fixed on the blue chipping paint that
made up Dr. T.J. Eckleberg’s gaze as he screamed at me, “God knows what you’ve
been doing, everything you’ve been doing. You may fool me but you can’t fool God!”
But my gaze was fixed on something else: a passing car, with Tom, my Tom in the driver’s seat. It wasn’t
his normal blue automobile… but it was him that sped down the road. As George
screamed that God would have his wrath, I instead thanked God for the sign of
hope he had given me. If I could just hold on until evening, Tom would return
and I could get out of this god-awful hell.
After another
spew of endless accusations and a new array of bruises, I heard the roar of a
car engine from a few miles away. I was able to break free of George’s grip and
run outside to meet the approaching headlights. My salvation was approaching
and growing brighter and brighter with every passing moment. I called for Tom… my Tom as my feet met with the cold
pavement beneath my stride. The chilled air whipped against my battered skin,
and the hum of the motor only grew louder. I remember watching Dr. Eckleberg’s
eyes in those final moments… staring at me as I starred at Daisy, an she stared
back at me. She was white knuckling the wheel with a spine-chilling look of fear,
desperation, and heartbreak that contrasted her usually beautiful expression. Dr.
Eckleberg was unmoving and still as he observed my last moments. I too was stuck
in place as I realized that my calls for Tom were falling upon the wrong ears.
Everything around me, including myself, was frozen… except for Daisy. She didn’t
stop. And that’s when I felt the ripping pain in my chest before everything was gone.
Most Affectionately,
-Myrtle
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