1301

I got a letter in the mail a couple months ago. It wasn't addressed to anyone, but my full address was handwritten on the envelope, along with an actual HK$1.40 stamp. Inside was an A4-size photocopy of a handwritten note, with reference to a Mr Lui in unit 1301 owing some people some money.

Naturally I went to check out 1301. I hadn’t even figured out what I’d be looking for when I noticed an envelope right by their doorstep. Apparently, at least every flat on the 13th floor had received the same letter in the mail that day, and 1305 was naïve enough to think that the sender had simply written down the wrong unit number on the envelope.

Thinking it could be presented as evidence in court someday, I made sure the letter was safely kept ― on my refrigerator under layers of bills and multiple industrial-strength magnets. And there it stayed, forgotten, until today.

There’s something about the interior of our building that creates the biggest echoes in the corridors. Any talking, knocking or doorbell would be amplified and resonate through each of our flimsy front doors. So I’m pretty sure any of my neighbors who was home around 2:30 this afternoon would’ve heard the banging on the steel gate and the yelling in front of 1301. It only went on for a minute or so and I couldn’t even make out what they were yelling, but it was enough to make me contemplate putting on some pants just in case my safety was seriously threatened and I had to make a split-second decision to leave my apartment. Through my peephole I watched as two big guys came within three feet of my home to go into the stairwell. My guess is that they didn’t want their faces recorded on the surveillance cameras in the elevator.

I live in 1308, which despite being all the way on the other end of the corridor is actually physically right next to 1301. There’s but a single wall between my bedroom and theirs. I don't know if I should be more worried about the debt collectors upping their game with more drastic measures which I’m certain is bound to happen unless Mr Lui magically comes up with however many dollars it is real soon, or about Mr Lui being pushed beyond his breaking point and pulling drastic, tragic measures of his own.

I’m going to have a chat with the security guard tomorrow to try to get more info. But what more can one do in a situation like this?