Asher’s pov.
“Madeline’s?” Carlos asks. I nod stiffly and slip into the back seat of the car, Carlos slides into the passenger seat and instructs the driver to take us to my godmother’s home.
The ride there is silent and in that silence the thoughts come.
The most persistent one, is the urge to claw my own face off or at least marr it enough that I look nothing like my father.
This isn’t the first time I’m having such thoughts and since I do plan on visiting my mother again, it certainly won’t be last time either. And like every single time, I drag a nail down my cheek and wonder how large of a scar I have to leave so my mother can look at me with eyes that shine with something other than hatred and like every other time I think that, I let my finger fall to my lap and I internally cur
