Frozen Hearts

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Flashbacks"

Phil's P.O.V.

     *Beep! Beep! Beep!*

      I awoke dizzy and relieved. It had all been a dream – well, more like a nightmare. Gathering my senses, I felt drenched.

      “Had I been sweating?” I asked myself.

      I looked at the clock in my side table, its alarm had been going on for a while. Turning it off, I heard my Mom call my name.

      “Felipe, are you awake? Come down here and have breakfast with you sister!” she said.

      “Mom, I told you to call me Phil.” I replied rolling my eyes though she can't see me doing so.

      I always hated the name Felipe. Aside from it being tacky, it is the name my father gave me. The same person who left Mom alone to take care of us; so that he may live with his other family. I had never been close to him, and I'll never be.

      “Phil Williams! Come here this instant! Don't you know it's rude to keep the food waiting?” I heard her say again.

      “Coming, Mom!” was my only reply.

      Straightening myself, I went downstairs to the kitchen. Passing down the hall, I noticed my Mom's old photographs taken when she and Dad started dating. She was so happy back then, but after they got married, things changed. They would always fight and scream at each other, and she never became that happy again.

      The night he left us was, for her, the most painful experience Mom had. I was six at that time and my little sister was still a year old. He and my Mom had a really big fight, my father's secret was revealed and that had caused some very harsh words to be exchanged between them. I guess he couldn't take it anymore because he quickly packed his things and left my Mom, crying and regretting, alone in their room.

      From that day on, we moved to a new neighborhood and changed our last names from Hampton to Williams.

      'It's time to begin a new, Felipe.' she told me that time.

      A few months after the move, I discovered that the person who gave my name was my father. I asked my Mom to change it, but she wouldn't allow me. When I asked her why, she would just reply, 'Your father wasn't all bad.'

      Arriving at the kitchen, I saw my mother setting up the table, and my sister chewing on some bacon.

      “So, what's for breakfast?” I asked the both of them while fixing myself get a seat.

      My little sister beamed at me while chewing her bacon and said, “Mom cooked some eggs and bacon, plus there's some toast.”

      “Why, thank you for that piece of information, Ally.” I said to her trying not be sardonic as I can be as I put some food into my plate to eat.

      I looked at my Mom, she seemed busy setting up the table but I could clearly see tears running down her face.

      “Mom, are you okay? Why don't you join us?” I asked her popping some bacon into my mouth.

      “Yes son, I am okay. It's just that I've been chopping some onions. I'll eat later after I am done.” she replied.

      I could clearly see in front of her and I didn't see any onions, which meant she was lying. She was never a good liar, plus, she rarely lies. But when she does, it's all because she doesn't want us to worry about her, or learn something painful. But what she does seems hurting.