Noah is my most special friend. Only I can see him. He is like Peter Pan; he doesn’t grow old. He is always fourteen. He always looks the same. Curly brown hair. Stripy red jacket. Black jeans. He is always the same. I was five when I found him in Wendy house. He was fourteen then too. Wendy house is the old grey cubby house in Neverland. Noah told me that it wasn’t always grey. It used to be blue. Neverland is the park behind my house. Mummy says its “Abandoned” so I shouldn’t play there. But I still do because Noah is there. He is Peter Pan and I am Wendy Darling. Neverland is our secret.
Mummy says I can’t mention Noah’s name in front of Daddy. It “upsets” him. My parents don’t like Noah. They think he isn’t real. That he is only make believe. But they don’t know Noah like I do. He is real. He is lighter than the dandelions that flutter in the wind. His laughter jingles like the chimes hanging from my window. He is warmer than the sun. He is my most special friend but he doesn’t belong to me. Because he is Peter Pan.