Those who live below me at my building are excessively loud. The kids are evil incarnate, watching TV at the maximum possible volume. The wife has such a high pitch that I’m sure she’s accountable for some of the glass shattering noise I hear almost every day. Also, I’m pretty certain the drunkard husband hits the wife at night.
The building is the latest addition in the society and I was the first one to inhabit it. When I moved here, I couldn’t comprehend the gravity of the situation. It was stupid of me not to investigate about the emptiness of the apartments, most of which, have been sold before I came. Later, after a month, when a handful of apartments on the first two floors were occupied, I was content that surely there is nothing ominous about this building.
The trouble started about a month ago when the downstairs people started generating a ruckus. No one lived on my floor. Hence, no one understood my condition. The security guards, the society committee, the builder and the caretaker, everyone looked at me with exasperation whenever I mentioned this complication.
I have nowhere else to go. I have put most of my savings to buy this flat. This is my singular possession. The story about the people below has spread like wildfire and I’ve confirmed with countless brokers that the flat has literally no value in the market because of them.
So, today I’ve decided to take the situation in my own hands. I’ll be going down and deal with them myself. I felt it be important that I keep a record of the events that forced me to take these steps.
You see, I live on Floor 9. The floor below me is actually the dedicated Refuge Area of the building. According to the building and construction norms of my state, every building has to have their 8th floor as the Refuge Area. Hence, no one is allowed to live there. According to the builder, the caretaker and the public records at the municipal corporation no one lives on this floor as well.
Well, I disagree!