Trapped |Jake Sim|

8

Jake stared at Sonny's features as her eyes were closed as if she were to be in deep sleep.

He couldn't tell if this was another illusion, but if it was, it was the most beautiful one yet.

He felt his hand reach to touch her, and he knew that he was no longer in control of his body anymore, he was old Jake.

The one that apparently knows Sonny.

He caressed her cheek, and then his hand moved to her shoulder. She felt his touch and opened her eyes to meet his, smiling groggily, before scooting closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

Jake could feel how warm she was then. What her scent was like, and how truly soft her skin was. The more these illusions happened, the more real they seemed to get.

We were together... we were together... like this. In each other's arms, hand in hand.

He couldn't make a distinction between old Jake and himself. He didn't know if he was feeling his heart full with just being in her arms, if these were his own emotions or whoever that clone of himself is.

But still, he closed his eyes tightly, not wanting the moment to end.

"Sonny." He felt himself talk and she hummed against his chest, making goosebumps rise on his skin. "We should get up."

What are you saying? What's wrong with you?!

He yelled at himself in his head.

"No, I want to stay like this with you for a few more minutes." She mumbled as she pulled away a bit, just to look at his face.

"But we have to get out of bed."

No! Don't let her go, don't do it!

"Just a few more Jake, hm?"

Say yes! Say yes, Jake, don't let her go!

"I have work, Sonny." He chuckled and Sonny pouted a little, before pulling away from him.

Jake felt himself reach out to her, trying to wrap his arms around her, only for his arms to go right through her and her body to disappear.

His gaze focused again, seeing the color of the curtains was no longer a white that blew in the wind, the bed sheets weren't a salmon pink anymore, and there was no Sonny.

"Sonny? Are you still here?" He asked into the empty room, his tears reaching his eyes. "I wanted to stay a little longer, Sonny. I'm sorry...please come back. Sonny."

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Jake numbly stared at the floor in front of him.

"You've requested to see me after all, make good use of me. My name is Mary Hart, but you can call me Dr. Hart." A psychiatrist said nicely, as she stared at Jake, waiting for him to say something.

It took courage for him to admit that something was going on. He still didn't know if Sonny's ghost was a product of his imagination, or if Sonny truly was trying to connect with him from the dead.

All he knew is that he's been feeling as if he were on a rollercoaster that he didn't know how to get off of, ever since he learned that he actually knew Sonny in the past.

He had questions.

For himself, for the people around him, his family.

If he knew Sonny, why did no one mention it?

If he knew Sonny, why can he only remember fragments of their time together?

If he knew Sonny, why does he only know his love for her but not the reason why?