Nanowrimo 2020 Day 21 - Word Count and Favorite Bit (Patreon)

Today I added 1837 words to Match.God, bringing my current total word count to 43,221!

“We’ve only been on this press tour for a day and we already have protesters?” Lindiwe demanded, the question poised to the universe rather than any person actually present.

The universe didn’t answer.

“News travels fast in the social media age,” Stefan said with a shrug. “You have been doing this since six in the morning. I’ve seen crazier things happen in less time. You sure you don’t extra security to escort you out? I don’t want you to have to run to the limo.”

“I think we’ll be alright,” Spring said breezily. “Should anything go wrong, our dear brothers can handle it, I think.”

Thunder grinned. “Of course! No need to worry with myself and Death about! We’ll scare their pants right off.”

Death sighed tiredly, but made no move to rebuke his siblings.

“Alright, if you say so,” Stefan agreed with a shrug. He shook each of the Matched’s hands in turn. “It was good to meet you. You’re great kids. Don’t let them –” He pointed out the door at the throng of protesters. “—tell you otherwise.”

With that, a few burly security guards escorted Hannah and the others towards the doors. As the approached, the shouting sounds of the crowd became more and more apparent, until it seemed to deafen Hannah when the doors opened.

Now that she was closer, Hannah could properly read the signs. There were plenty of the usual signs proclaiming God’s hate for basically everyone in the world. Many quoted Bible passages about there being only one god.

But one set caught Hannah’s eye in particular. Simple poster board signs covered in hand written letters. ‘Pretenders’ the signs said.

She paused, staring at the posters, and the people who carried them. There couldn’t be more than four of them, but the looks they shot Hannah’s way filled her with fear. The amount of vitriol in their gazes terrified her. The other protesters hated her, sure, but only because they hated everyone.

These girls, with their signs proclaiming Hannah and her friends to be pretenders and thieves, hated Hannah specifically. Never had Hannah experienced such direct animosity. It turned her feet to lead as her heart thundered against her ribs.

Death’s cold hand settled on her shoulder, pulling her away. Hannah’s eyes snapped forward, breaking whatever spell she’d been under. She let out a shuddering breath, walking all the more quickly towards the limo.

“Are you alright?” Lindiwe asked as Hannah slid across the leather seat.

Hannah found it difficult to find her words for a moment, still shaken. “I…I think some of those protestors are witches.”

Nessa’s brows furrowed, looking like she almost took offense at the accusation. “What do you mean?”

“Their signs called us pretenders.” Hannah wasn’t sure why that word in particular stuck with her, but ever time she blinked she saw those bright red letters. “I don’t know who else would call us that.”

Nessa’s shoulders dropped, her defensiveness disappearing. “Okay, maybe not an unreasonable assumption.”

“I thought you said witches wouldn’t care?” Clara said.

“The ones I know wouldn’t!” Vanessa insisted. “But there’s crazies in every group!”

“I guess we just met some,” Lindiwe said, wrapping a comforting arm around Hannah. “Did they say anything to you, Hannah?”

Hannah shook her head, unsure. “If they did, I didn’t hear anything. Everyone was shouting, so who knows who said what. I just…I don’t think I’ve ever been hated so specifically before?”

“It’s not fun, is it?” Lindiwe said softly, and Hannah hated that she could tell her friend was speaking from experience.

“No,” Hannah agreed. “It’s not.”