Wilson walked steadily towards the pool, like a lion preying on deer, each step bringing him closer to his crazed goal. His mind was on the verge to insanity, constantly seeing the yellow car destroy his wife’s body.”The bastard didn’t even stop the car”, this phrase played on his mind on an endless loop to remind him of the heartlessness of Gatsby and to justify what he was about to do. Wilson was there and he saw it. He watched the car drive away, leaving the body of his wife disfigured and motionless on the road in front of his garage. Myrtle was Wilson’s everything, she was his life. The driver of the big expensive yellow car just kept on going without a care in the slightest that it had just destroyed what had mattered to Wilson the most, and that big expensive yellow car belonged to the man who was floating on the pool of his mansion oblivious to what was just about to happen. Wilson had spent all morning looking for the man who murdered his wife. He was told by Tom whose car it was and Jay Gatsby was his name. The name enraged him and fueled him with great anger and now his dawdling steps carried him to Gatsby, his mind intent to kill Gatsby himself.He clenched on to his revolver in his trembling and tired hands. The gun was loaded with two bullets, one meant for justice and one for revenge.Gatsby was lying anxiously on his pneumatic mattress floating on the calm waters of his pool. The vast waters between east egg and west egg was what separated him from Daisy, the love of his life, and now the water that carried him while he waited for a phone call that even he knew was not coming, was likely to be his grave. Gatsby could hear the slow and heavy footsteps of what sounded like a beast emerging from the yellowing trees. He turned his head only to see a man in great despair. The man’s hair was greasy and messy and his clothes stained with oil and mud. Everything about this man was dusty, it seemed as if he had just come from the valley of ashes. In all the grey and black, Wilson was holding a shiny metallic gun that was now aimed at Gatsby. The careless calm and incognizant man who Wilson once was had been replaced by a cold murderer. “Jay Gatsby?” Wilson cried out in great exasperation across the pool.Gatsby was shocked