Anna's Safe Haven

A story I wrote for father's day. Possibly to be revised and the tense of the story changed at a later date.


Booker DeWitt is violently wrenched from his sleep by the sound of a soft knocking against his door. It must be Anna. Sitting up in bed he calls out to his daughter, suppressing the violent throbbing in his temples.

"Anna, what is it?"

He hears Anna's tiny voice in reply. "Daddy, can I come in?"

"Yeah, here." Booker says, climbing out of bed and opening the door for his daughter.

Across the threshold stands his daughter Anna, 9 years old. She's dressed in her blue nightgown and, he notices, has a slight dribble of blood coming from her nose.

Reaching for a handkerchief Booker asks "Anna, what happened?"

Anna sniffles, some blood retreating back into her nostril. "Daddy, I had a bad dream."

"Do you want me to read you a story so you can fall back to sleep?" He asks, ruffling her hair.

"Daddy, what's Songbird?" She asks with a hint of apprehension, walking into the room.

Booker's heart freezes at the mention of Songbird. He had always feared this, feared that she would retain some memory. But how? Why? It just didn't seem fair to burden her with that.

"Anna, sweetie." He starts. "Where did you hear that name?"

Anna hops up onto Booker's bed, letting her feet dangle from the sides. "It was in my dreams, daddy."

"Dreams? What do you mean?" He asks, his face twisted in concern.

"Daddy, I keep dreaming things. Scary things." Her voice begins to tremble as she continues. "Daddy, it's like-"

Booker notices that her nose is bleeding again, worse this time. He reaches a hand out to wipe away the blood. "Anna, I-"

Her voice begins to rise, her eyes dilated in fear. "Daddy, I'm scared!"

"Anna, there ain't nothing to be scared of." Booker whispers.

Her breathing has become erratic, fresh tears staining her cheeks. "Daddy!" She cries, grasping Booker tightly around the waist and burying her head in your chest. "DADDY, SAVE ME FROM SONGBIRD! PLEASE!"

Brushing a hand through Anna's hair Booker tries to console Anna further. "Baby-"

"PLEASE!" Her cries transfigured into a moan of inarticulate fear.

"Baby, I'm here. Ain't nothing going to happen to you when I'm here. Do you understand?" Booker says in a firm, even tone.

Booker holds her close to his chest as she sobs softly, the blood from her nose staining his white undershirt. But that doesn't matter. Not one damn bit.

The morning light shines through the window of Booker DeWitt's room, illuminating two sleeping forms. Booker, still holding Anna tight with both arms. Anna, wrapped in the security of her father and smiling softly to herself. A person can't count on much in this world. But a little girl can count on her father to keep her safe.