KEENA & THE KREW

Chapter 1

The ocean underwater city of Aquiotic, 1967.

Little Keena Ericks, a young shark of only five, ran around the house with a toy gun.

"Keena, what are you doing, sweetie?" asked Keena's mom.

"I'm a ghost make-deader." said little Keena.

Her mom laughed.

"Put your fins up, ghost!" said little Keena.

Her mom playfully put her hands up.

"Sweetie, you need to get to bed." she said. "You can play this in the morning."

So she went upstairs and literally jumped into bed.

Keena's P.O.V.

I was always weird to many girls. They thought I was too tomboyish. I liked the idea of ending the horror that ghosts created, but I also wanted to be a police officer. I got very addicted to disco. As a matter of fact, last year, I got a disco ball for my birthday. That would be my fifteenth birthday.

1977.

"Keena!" I heard my mom yell. "Time for breakfast!"

Breakfast. The grossest meal of the day. It's the one meal I don't eat meat during. Meat is all I like. Trust me. You'd figure it out if you met me.

I walked down the stairs with my nightgown still on and my hair messed up.

"Oh, look!" said my second to youngest sister. "It's Electric Girl!"

"Shut up!" I shouted.

"Keena, be nice!" said mom. "And go put on some decent clothes and fix your hair!"

"I just came down the stairs, unwillingly!" I yelled. "I'm tired!"

"Go get dressed." said mom.

Now, at this time, the clothes I wore back then seemed strange to other girls as most of them wore dresses. But I felt beautiful in my clothes. I attracted a lot of boys too. You could've never guessed who designed them. It was me.

I came downstairs in a black, grey and green cloth zip-up sleeveless vest that didn't cover my belly; red and black sleeves on my arms, seperate from my vest (of course); grey baggy pants; and red shoes.

"Why can't you define decent?" asked mom.

"If you don't think I'm not decent now, then maybe I'll take off all my clothes and run around naked all day!" I said.

"Just sit down and eat!" said mom.

"Fine!" I shouted and sat down.

"You know, what Keena?" asked my older sister. "I heard you last night going 'Oh Robby! Oh, that's it right there-"

"At least I'm not a virgin!" I shouted.

"You want a funeral today!" she asked.

"Girls, stop it!" shouted mom.

"Guess, what, KEENA!" said my youngest sister in a snotty tone. "Mom says I can get my lip pierced and you can't have any piercings!"

"Big freakin' whoop!" I yelled. "Guess what! I'm gonna get my vagina pierced! What do you think about that!"

"Keena, you're grounded." said mom.

"But mom! They got a big disco party this weekend!" I complained.

"I don't care." said mom.

"They started it!" I complained.

"I don't care!" shouted mom. "Don't use the v word at the table!"

"Okay, fine. I'm grounded." I said. "But that just shows how much of a bitch you are!" I said and ran to my room.

Being grounded. That meant I was only grounded from going anywhere, mainly because I love going to big disco clubs more than anything else. But our family kind of fell apart after dad died. My sisters turned into bitches and I don't think mom understood me even half as much as what she did when dad was alive. I do know that dad understood me the most and at times, I wanted to believe he was the only thing that kept our family together. But with so many days with just mom and my sisters, I wouldn't begin to think they'd miss me if I commit suicide. As a matter of fact, I often pictured them dancing on my grave.

I picked up a picture of dad and tears ran down my face. Then I thought, no matter how long or hard I would cry, dad would never come back. I didn't want to think negative, but I didn't often think of the impossibilities. I started to go to sleep and thought about the times I spent with him. He'd died when I was nine, so it had been a while since I'd seen him.