A 'dreaming' Transmedia production by Mica, Isobel and Caitlin.

Inspired by 'The Treasure Box' by Margaret Wild and Freya Blackwood

this diary belongs to: Camila

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Our memories and experiences shape who we are and in the end sharing them, can make us stronger...

My name is Camila. I'm 9 years old and my parents passed away when I was younger. I live in a home for orphaned youth, in France. We are in a time of war and we have been urged to flee the city. I'm not sure where we are headed.

September 1940

Sheer terror has taken control over my body, I heard the cries of innocent villagers last night, whilst exiting the village, I'm not too sure what happened to them. We are required to stay silent for most of the time. As we reach the first stop, we find ourselves in a small village, hidden by nature. We move at night, it feels like we're walking for days. The dark forest floor is almost ice cold.

December 1940

I don’t think I can survive another night. When we stop, we pray. I think of our supplies running out. Thinking about it makes it worse because we just want to go back to the place we grew up and shared times of sorrow and joy. Sadness surrounds me and no one believes that we will survive but I hope we will.

December 1940

I honestly think that fleeing the city during Christmas has destroyed everyone's spirit. I mean... we’ve been travelling for weeks on end! I feel quite discouraged and scared knowing that some of my friends have died.

People are saying we are nearly there! Even though I am not aware of our whereabouts or where our destination is located. Everyone's sorrow increases each day.

December 1940

Today is Christmas, as I expected... no one has any gifts, no one is celebrating and worst of all, NO ONE has the Christmas spirit! This war is really getting to me. I was so excited when I remembered that Christmas was today, I hoped that it would cheer everyone up! Turns out, I was completely wrong. I remember my parents and I would receive such joy opening presents, eating a great big feast with my family and going to church.

December 1940

Our group leader, I think he used to be our Mayor, is informing us that around half of our city's population have either been left behind in the burning city or sadly passed, whilst feeling attacks.

I am constantly looking around for hours on end for some of my dear friends but they are nowhere to be seen. I just hope that they are in a safer place far away from the explosions.

December 1940

I miss my friends and the familiar spaces around our village. I especially miss my time to myself in town's library. I wonder if any of the books were rescued!

Last night I fell asleep on my suitcase and now it’s gone. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. We are also out of all our rations. What will this mean?

December 1940

I missed my writing time yesterday, I was such a wreck!

Searching and searching for my suitcase while I was starving. I also spent a while talking to my friend Peter, who lost his dad during our 'journey'.

He said that he would help me but it’s no use. I am so tired. I feel my body dwindle but some glimmer of hope remains in my heart.

January 1941                                                     

We have finally reached Dijon. We have just passed the magnificent St Benignus Cathedral. I've been told this Cathedral was built between 1280 and 1325. It has been severely damaged and broken to pieces before, just like this journey has torn my city apart.

This exquisite landmark is the most amazing thing that I've ever seen in my little life.

January 1941                     

In Lyons Ferrand, we walked past a place called Parc de la Tête d’Or, a gorgeous garden that felt like the garden of Eden.

The garden was encircled with green hedges, flowers and shrubs. I wished I could remain in this place forever.

January 1941                                                

We just walked past Notre-Dame de la Garde meaning Our Lady of the Guard. I wished I could go inside to pray.

As I walked by I saw Peter sobbing. I’m guessing it he too wishes he was back home with his father.

January 1941

Our escape route took us through Perpignan. We passed five cities in France including Dijon, Lyons Ferrand, Avignon, Marseilles and Beziers.

Whilst fear was engulfing me like a monster, I wasn't willing to give up. I am trying to distract myself and continue trudging on, no matter how difficult it is for me.

Even Peter seems in better spirits, today he showed a special box...

Our route started at Paris and ended at Perpignan.