PART ONE …
She was not yet eighteen years old, and life always seemed kind, fabulously beautiful and at any moment, as long as you can think of it, it can give you everything good and joyful that is in the world! Their family was the most famous in the district, and her parents believed that their daughter should not limit her education to the regular school curriculum, like many of her peers. They decided that she needed extra classes in history, music, and science. Bagila didn’t resist this, especially since her teachers in school tirelessly praised her knowledge. After leaving school, her father carved out a few days vacation, and personally took his daughter to Almaty. Bagila rarely saw her father, Karatai. He left early, showed up at the door at midnight. He didn’t talk to the kids very often. Even when he arrived at twelve o’clock, he immediately sat down and went on to his phone, as if people were only waiting for his call at night, he would begin to give instructions, sharply explain things, scolding… Bagila lay in her room and listened to what, and how her father said things, and was sincerely surprised. When does he rest? Sometimes she felt sorry for her father to the point of tears, especially when, through the crack of a half-closed door, she saw how he, having quarrelled with some unknown person, threw down the phone and with trembling hands, accepted a crystal glass from her mother, with Valocordin, cloudy white in the water. He calmed down slowly, sat in his armchair, ruffled and then closed his eyes, like a sick bird. And having calmed down, he grabbed the phone and asked for an apartment of the director of some distant state farm; the clock at that minute was already counting the first hour of the new day. And so, she would fall asleep under the official conversations of her father. She studied in the first shift. In the morning, in the beginning of the 7th, Bagila found out that her father’s bed was empty, and the unfinished tea in his cup was barely warm… As if feeling guilty in front of his daughter, her father would often send a car that took her to school. All this was familiar, normal, she did not even allow the thought that life could be different. Only with age, or rather, in her
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