It was handwritten, the song on her son’s unmade bed. The lyrics flowed. There were verses, a chorus, and guitar chords.
She googled snippets. No matches. She was amazed and impressed. He was only thirteen.
It began with ‘Save me’ and ended – well, it ended.
She was scared, so scared.
Anmari lives in Sydney. She writes more in her head than makes it onto paper. She is scared of what might come out, but is taking small steps and getting braver every day.