The Astana Diaries 1: New Beginnings

My name is Astana. Well, that is one of them. I go by many. Others include Pandora, Athena, and Poppy, as well as some that are simply too secret to share here. This blog is about me. It is also about JetPunk, my life, and crime. This series will be a work of fiction, for the most part at least. I will start this story in my house. Here goes.

I stood in the bathroom of my forest estate in Oregon, gazing out the window. School would start in a few hours, and I planned to do something with that time. The sun was about to rise, and I was supposed to be brushing my hair. I had recently woken up, and it was a huge tangly mess. I grabbed my hairbrush and straightened it out, then washed my face.

Back in my bedroom, I grabbed my purse, prefilled with what I needed, and crept back into the hallway. I heard something down the hall, from my sister’s room. My sister, Kissa, walked towards me.

“Pandora, where are you going?” she asked. “It is the middle of the night.”

I would point out that it was the early morning but I decided against it. “I am going somewhere,” I said. “I will be back to see you off to school.”

“I will tell Mother,” Kissa told me.

“What if I give you some candy?”

“Fine. I want 5 Twix bars and 2 bags of gummy bears.”

“Okay,” I said. “I will get them for you. And by the way, you have amazing taste in candy.”

“If you throw in some York Peppermint Patties and Nerds,” Kissa told me, “Then I just might forget about your Spotify playlist.”

I agreed. It was important that nobody, especially my parents, found out about that particular playlist.

A few minutes later, I was on my bike, riding down the road into town. Once the sun was peeking over the horizon, I was near the store. I went inside and bought the candy for Kissa, plus some soda for myself.

Across town, a 5-minute ride was the place I was looking for. A nondescript townhouse, 4 stories, made of bricks, the place was relatively usual for this district.

I unlocked the door, crept inside, and noticed the line of footprints in the dust. Somebody had been here. The shoe sole patterns were the same that I had seen before, the last time I had been here. That was months ago. It was probably the same person, I noted.

Climbing up the stairs to the top floor, I crept silently, trying not to make any noise. I heard a step creak, but nobody else seemed to be inside. Better safe than sorry.

Inside the attic, I walked to the chest, as per my instructions. Picking the lock, I opened it and pulled out the photograph. It was aged and torn, but I could still see it. After putting the photo back into my bag, I went to close the chest. But something else caught my eye. A manila folder, with some writing on it. The word “Astana” spelled out clearly.

I grabbed the folder as well, then quickly shut the chest. My heart pounding, I quickly made my way out of the townhouse and back to the street. The nearest park was only a block away, so I rode my bike in the rising sun toward a bench. It was not too far from a path, but not too close either. I opened the folder, and what I saw made me shiver.

Photos of me, walking down the street, sitting on this very bench times before, going about my daily life. And worst of all, a grainy photograph of me in the woods, burning a document. It was hard to see, but I instantly recognized it. I was under strict instructions to not let anyone see me burn the evidence. But somebody had. And that somebody was associated with my employer.

Or were they? My superiors owned the townhouse, but they would not leave this lying around for me to find. It was probably somebody else, who left it there recently, with the same boots, wanting me to find it. But why? What did they want to accomplish? Was it just a tactic to scare me, or were they trying to manipulate me? I pondered this as I rode back to my house.

Once in the garage, I parked my bike and walked inside. My siblings were eating breakfast, and my parents were in their office doing some stuff for work. I nodded to Kissa and walked to her room, putting the candy on her bedside table. I placed a copy of Harry Potter that she was reading upon it, so the candy would hopefully not be found by anyone other than her.

It was finally time to prepare for school. I packed my backpack with everything I needed, redid my hair, and walked to the garage. I hopped on my bike and rode into town for the second time that day, this time towards a place I dreaded school.

I parked my bike and then walked inside. The front hall was filled with kids falling on the floor, punching each other, drinking coffee, and trying to wear as few clothes as possible without violating the dress code.

I made my way down the hallway to my locker, shoved past some kid trying to squirt milk out of his nose, and opened the low-security lockbox. I put my backpack inside, pulled out my school supplies, and shut it. The same kid was now having a coughing fit while a crowd of boys around him laughed. I am surrounded by idiots, I thought.

My first class of the day was near, but uneventful. The teacher did her best to make it interesting, which I appreciated, but she was not very successful. Most of the stuff I either already knew or could not wrap my head around. Everything in school was either extremely easy or extremely too difficult.

The second class, Physical Education, was much worse. It has always been my least favorite subject, mostly because I have terrible athletic abilities and I have a burning hatred for many of the kids in the class.

Physical Education consisted of a workout, an extremely boring game of kickball, and the teacher droning on about next week’s unit for half an hour.

The third class of the day, and everyone after that, was extremely boring. But after I got back home, things finally became somewhat interesting.

Kissa was eating candy on the couch, watching some show about unicorns, while my brother Ares was glaring at me as Kissa made a big show of enjoying the enormous pile of sweets I had given her.

“Give me candy too,” Ares said. “Or I tell Mother that you gave some to Kissa.”

I sighed. “I cannot get you any right now, but would you accept some money as an alternative?”

Ares squealed giddily. “Yes!” I handed him some of my spare change, and he ran off to his room to count it.

I rolled my eyes. My siblings were funny and cute, but they could also be annoying. I now had some time to myself, so I went outside and took a walk in the woods. I was heading towards a specific place, which I will not share the exact location of. In the hollow of a tree, I found the letter I had requested. I had arranged with Jake, a friend of mine, to leave our notes to each other there.

The note was not what I expected. It was an invitation to a party outside of a nearby town at some remote mansion.

I raised an eyebrow. I did not know Jake well enough to get invited to his party. Sure, I would go, he was very hot and nice, but did he feel the same way about me? I would have to find out. It was a few days, and I was excited about what the party would hold. However, it turned out to be nothing like what I expected.