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"Libby! Libby, please wake up!" Steaven, my seven year old brother and the baby of the family, sound serious, which is completely unlike the little goofball.
"Zzzzz... z.. Huh?" I mumbled, jerked from a sweet dream of mark, the cutest (and sweetest!) guy in school, asking me out. " Steaven, It's five in the morning! I swear, if you woke me up to get me to turn on the T.V.-"
"No, Libby. Mom, Dad, Pete, and Luke are... gone."
"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" I asked him, irritated.
"I don't know!" he said, starting to sob, "But there isn't a note, the cars are still here, and sara's still 'sleep."
"So? maybe they went on a run. It doesn't mean they're gone," I snap at him. "what made you think they were gone forever?"
"Because," he said solemnly, "The limber man said so."