“Hey guys, Qing Ming is coming up. What about a night run in the cemetery?” Jun Eng asked his friends as they tucked into their bowl of noodles after their usual Saturday morning run.
“Count me out” Rinn reply immediately.
“Respect the month,” Mei Ling had said. “Don’t run in the cemetery at night.”
“Oh come on guys, don’t be chicken” Jun Eng replied.
“Er ok lor” Daniel reluctantly agreed, not wanting to lose face in front of the girls.
Arzeen nodded his head in confirmation as well.
“Great, I see you guys at the usual place and pick you all at 6.30 pm” enthuse Jun Eng.
One week later.
As Jun Eng prepared to step out of the house in his running attire, his grandmother asked “Where are you going?”
Jun Eng replied “Running lor, where else”.
Ah Ma looked at him and said “Boy ar, during Qing Ming Festival… don’t go running in the cemetery. Especially at night ok?.”
Jun Wei rolled his eyes slightly but forced a smile. “Aiya, Ah Ma, I just running only.”
“Young people always think like that,” she said softly. “But that type of place… during this period… it’s not for the living to pass through so casually.”
Jun Wei checked his watch. He was already late for his run.
“Okay, okay, I’ll avoid,” he said quickly, slipping on his shoes and thinking in his mind “How does she knows where I’m going to?”
Ah Ma’s eyes lingered on him, sharp despite her age.
“You promise?”
He hesitated—just for a second—then nodded. “Promise.”
10 minutes later.
“Where you guys? I at the car park already” text Jun Eng.
His phone lit up with a reply from Daniel. “Sorry, I have to run an errand for my mum. Can’t make it. Paiseh”
Arzeen texted back “My grandma not feeling well. I staying back to look after her. You go ahead and enjoy your run”.
“What a lot of cowards!” exclaimed Jun Eng as he drove off alone to the Lim Chu Kang Chinese Cemetery.
The entrance was a long trailing path that leads to a gentle hill. He started running, his footsteps soft against the uneven ground.
The row and row of tombstone bordering the path leads on and on. The air inside felt… different. Cooler. And thick with the smell of burning joss paper.
Jun Eng slowed slightly. There were fresh offerings everywhere—neatly arranged fruits, incense still glowing, small piles of ash that hadn’t yet scattered.
“People just left,” he muttered, trying to sound casual.
But something about it felt off.
Too quiet.
No insects. No distant traffic. Just his breathing.
And then—
Another set of footsteps.
The first time he heard footsteps behind him, he didn’t think much of it.
Another runner, maybe.
He kept his rhythm steady—left, right, left, right—and the footsteps matched him exactly.
Too exactly.
He slowed.
The footsteps slowed.
He stopped.
The footsteps stopped.
Jun Eng turned.
No one was there.
Only rows of silent tombstones and the faint curl of smoke drifting through the air.
He let out a short laugh. “Echo,” he said to himself. “Must be.”
A sudden gust of wind swept through the hill, carrying with it the smell of burnt paper—stronger now, almost suffocating. The lanterns on the tombstones behind him flickered violently. Then went out. All at once. Darkness swallowed the place
The footsteps came back. Closer this time. Right behind him.
He froze.
The footsteps stopped too.
Jun Eng swallowed hard and turned around.
Nothing.
Just the rows of tombstones, standing like silent watchers.
He turned back and started running again.
The footsteps returned.
Closer this time.
Right behind him.
Jun Eng didn’t turn. Every instinct screamed at him not to.
Instead, he ran. He didn’t care about his pace anymore. He sprinted, lungs burning, legs screaming as the ground seemed to stretch endlessly beneath him. Down the hill, faster than he had ever run. His breathing grew ragged, his legs burning as the path twisted beneath him.
The footsteps followed.
Always just behind.
No matter how fast he went.
Jun Eng reached his car, jumped into it and started the engine and drove like a maniac out of the cemetery.Once out of the cemetery, he turned slowly. The cemetery beyond it was silent.
He remembered Ah Ma’s voice then.
Don’t go running in the cemetery…
His chest tightened.
“Okay, enough,” he muttered. “It’s just my imagination…”
Still,he sat in the car for a long time, shaking, until the world felt normal again before he went up to his home.
When he finally opened the door, Ah Ma was still awake.
She looked at him once—and her face fell.
“You went,” she said quietly.
Jun Eng tried to speak, but no words came out.
Ah Ma stood slowly, her gaze dropping to his feet.
“You brought something back.”
He didn’t run in the cemetery again.
Not during Qing Ming. Not ever.
But sometimes, when he ran elsewhere—on well-lit paths, surrounded by people—he would hear it.
Faint.
Perfectly in sync with his own stride.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
And once, just once, he made the mistake of stopping mid-run.
The footsteps didn’t.
They kept going.
Past him.
Into the dark.
