It happened while I was rummaging through some boxes in the attic.

“Katie, come down here,” shouted Mum. I chose to ignore her. I was too busy to go down stairs right now. There were some interesting things in these old boxes such as old pictures and clothes. It was then that my eyes fell on the little brown box in the corner.

You probably think I'm very nosy going through everything and you're probably right. But it was for a school project so at least I had some sort of excuse. Inside the box was an old gas mask. The gas mask's filter looked like an elephant's trunk and it was covered in a thick layer of dust. I blew off the dust and decided to try it on.

Don't ask what possessed me to put on the dirty old thing because I don't know myself. At the time it seemed like a good idea. It seemed like I was wearing a little part of history (little did I know that I was soon to become a part of history).

Anyway, just as I had put the gas mask over my head I heard Mum's stilettos clip-clopping up the stairs and her shouting my name. I wished I could just get away from her. I closed my eyes and wished I were somewhere else. “Katie,” I heard somebody call.

“I'm coming. I'm coming,” I shouted down. Well, it was a nice try I thought but I'm still here. I took off the gas mask and placed it back in the box. “Katie,” the voice called again.

I was expecting to see the slender figure of my Mum in her designer suit and Prada shoes standing in front of me but instead there was a plump motherly-looking woman in a simple dress and apron. “Who are you?” I said accusingly.

“Katie, you joker. Ah, I see you were trying on your gas mask. With World War Two now declared it could just save your life.” World War Two, I thought, I knew about that from school. I remembered it had happened sometime in the 1940s. So I must be in London in the 1940s. But how?

There was only one explanation: it must have been the gas mask. When I closed my eyes and wished, I somehow ended up here. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Katie, are you all right? You've gone the colour of a ghost.”

“I'm fine,” I mumbled even though I felt quite sick.

“That's good, anyway your father and I want to speak to you,” she said and went back downstairs. I guessed she was 'my mother'. This was too much for me. I pinched myself just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. No such luck, I was wide-awake.

I put the gas mask on again, closed my eyes but when I opened them I was still in the 1940s. I had no choice but to go down to that woman who called herself my mother.

As I was on my way out I caught sight of myself in a mirror. I was no longer wearing my jeans and track-top but a simple brown dress with long sleeves. Instead of my Nike runners I was wearing sturdy brown shoes and my usually untameable red hair was tied sleekly into two plaits that hung down by my ears. All in all I looked quite plain.

I went downstairs and I noticed that the structure of the house was quite like mine. In the kitchen sat the woman and a stockily built man. “Katie,” he began in gruff voice. “Darling, because of the war I have been called to go to battle. Your mother will stay here… em… well..and…” I didn't like where this was going. “Your mother and I feel it would be safer for you to be evacuated. You leave tomorrow.” Then 'Mum' burst into tears.

It took a while but I was there. After several hugs and kisses from Mum and a very long train journey, I had finally arrived. With the gas mask box slung over my shoulder and my little suitcase containing my few but precious items, I was ready to meet my future family.

We arrived at a quaint little cottage with a lovely garden full of flowers. The Billeting Officer knocked on the door and a middle-aged woman answered it. She was tall, thin and had blonde hair scraped back into a scraggly bun. She was wearing a long blue dress with a white apron. She and the Billeting Officer were chatting. I could just hear snippets of conversation “Care… clever… over-dramatic.”

Well I never. I might have cried and wailed and kicked and screamed for a while but I think I was entitled to. After all I had just left my family. All right, I know I was getting too caught up in all this and should really have been trying to figure out a way back to my time but the truth is my real family aren't that great.

My parents are divorced so I live with my mum. You see, she's a model so she's always travelling and I hardly ever see her. That's why I was trying to get away from her because I knew whatever she was about to say was only going to disappoint me. I was going to jump at the chance of a new family.

“Come on in,” said the woman. She thanked the Billeting Officer and shut the door. “Now,” she said turning to me “my name is Lucinda King but you can call me Aunt Lucy if you like. Your bedroom is upstairs and you can go unpack your stuff.” I trudged up the stairs.

She seemed all right. I unpacked everything and I could smell something delicious. “What's cooking?” I said casually. “Fish, I thought we'd have it tonight on account of your arrival but mind you not every night– we're on ration you know.”

The kitchen was quite cramped. It was full of cupboards and had a stove and worktop. At the end of the room there was a small table with two chairs around it. I sat down at the table with Aunt Lucy for dinner. “So, Katie tell me about yourself,” said Aunt Lucy trying to start a conversation.

“Don't get me started,” I replied. “School is boring and homework, it's bad enough we have to stay in school all day but having to do work at home, that's just torture.”

Aunt Lucy started to laugh. I knew it was the start of a beautiful relationship.

Days passed uneventfully and every day Aunt Lucy and I became closer. We told each other everything. She told me about her husband who had gone to war and how she hoped he was safe. I told her about anything that popped into my head. Every night Aunt Lucy would come up to my bedroom. She would blow out the candle and kiss me goodnight. It was quite dark in the little room because of the blackouts but eventually I would drift off to sleep.

One night, I was awoken by loud crashing sounds and Aunt Lucy's fearful voice calling my name “Quick, Katie, get up. They're dropping bombs on the village. Put your gas mask on and we'll get out of here.”

We ran out of the house as quick as we could. It was worse than I could have imagined. The once-beautiful little village was now in smouldering ruins. People were running backwards and forwards screaming and shops and houses were destroyed. “I wish I had got that bomb shelter built,” Aunt Lucy said. “We'll run to the Barnes they'll let us in their shelter.” I was stiff with fear and my legs hardly worked.

We got to the Barnes and they let us in. I sat huddled in a corner of the bomb shelter. Tears were streaming down my face. “I wish I was anywhere but here,” I whispered. Suddenly everything went quiet. “Katie,” somebody called. “Katie, get up off that dirty floor and take that thing off your face.”

“Mum? How long have I been gone?”

“Gone? You never left. What are you talking about?”

I didn't tell her because I knew she wouldn't believe me. “Nothing. Just a game,” I said. I looked down at the pictures on the floor. There was a picture of Aunt Lucy.

“Who's that?” I asked. “That's your Great Aunt Lucy but I don't know who that girl is beside her. She looks a bit like you.”

I smiled knowingly.