The sky had turned a deep shade of orange by the time I left
the lab. I stuffed my notebook into my bag and made my way back to the hostel,
the quiet hum of anticipation buzzing in my mind.
"All Souls' Day," I muttered to myself. "A cemetery visit at
night. What could possibly go wrong?"
The plan was simple: meet everyone at the cemetery gates by
7 PM, wander around to take in the candlelit decorations, and maybe grab
something to eat afterward. Rena had been unusually insistent that I show
up—though I wasn't sure if it was because she genuinely wanted me there or just
didn't trust me not to flake.
Back at the hostel, I rummaged through my wardrobe. "Do I
dress casual? Or is this one of those times Rena's going to lecture me about
looking 'presentable'?" I decided on something simple: jeans, a dark jacket,
and sneakers. Practical enough for wandering around a cemetery.
As I grabbed my phone, I noticed a message from Jee in the
group chat.
Jee: Don't forget your candles, people! It's part of the
tradition.
Rena: Ashan, that includes you.
I sighed, typing back.
Me: Sure, sure. I'll pick some up on the way.
With twenty minutes to spare, I locked my door and headed
out. The streets were busier than usual, with families heading toward
the cemetery. Stopping at a street vendor, I bought a small bundle of
candles. The vendor, an elderly woman with kind eyes, smiled as she handed them
to me. "For loved ones, right?"
I nodded politely, unsure how to respond.
As I walked toward the meeting point, the glow of candles in
the distance grew brighter, illuminating the path ahead. There was a strange
serenity to it all—a blend of life and remembrance.
By the time I reached the cemetery gates, the group had
already gathered. Rena waved me over, her expression half-annoyed, half-amused.
"Cutting it close, as usual," she said.
"Relax. I'm here, aren't I?" I replied, holding up the
candles as proof.
She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything more. Jee and
the others were chatting animatedly, their excitement infectious.
As we walked through the gates, the cemetery stretched out
before us, bathed in the warm glow of countless candles. The air felt
different—calmer, quieter, as if the world itself had paused to honor those
who'd come before.
"Alright," Rena said, breaking the silence. "Let's start
over there. Jee, you lead."
And with that, our little sightseeing adventure began.
The group followed Jee as she led us through the winding
paths between gravestones. The soft flicker of candlelight cast long, wavering
shadows, and the occasional murmurs of other visitors created a hushed
atmosphere.
"This place feels so… different at night," Rena said, her
voice quieter than usual.
"It's peaceful," Jee chimed in, stopping to adjust one of
the candles that had toppled over. "I always liked this tradition. It's a nice
way to remember the ones we've lost."
I glanced around, noting the care people had taken in
decorating the graves. Some were adorned with flowers, others with handwritten
notes or photographs.
Rena nudged me. "Don't just stand there, Ashan. At least
pretend to be interested."
"I am interested," I shot back. "I'm just… taking it all
in."
"Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced.
As the group continued forward, I found myself lagging
behind. Something about the scene had pulled me into my thoughts. The glowing
cemetery felt oddly comforting, as if it wasn't about grief at all, but
connection.
"Hey, don't get lost," Rena called, snapping me out of my
reverie.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm right here," I replied, quickening my pace
to catch up.
Jee suddenly stopped near a particularly elaborate grave,
where a group of people was gathered. The grave was lit with dozens of candles,
surrounded by flowers and incense. A woman knelt in front of it, her hands
clasped in prayer.
"That's beautiful," Jee said softly. "You don't see
decorations like that often."
"It's for their son," a voice behind us explained.
We turned to see an older man standing nearby, his face kind
but weary.
"He was only seventeen when he passed," the man continued.
"Every year, his family comes here to honor him."
The group fell silent. Even Rena, who always had something
to say, stayed quiet.
"That's… tragic," Jee said after a moment.
The man nodded. "It is. But they find peace in remembering
him like this. It's their way of keeping him close."
As the man walked away, the weight of his words lingered.
Rena placed a candle on the grave, whispering something I couldn't quite hear.
The rest of us followed her lead, lighting candles one by one.
For a while, none of us spoke. We just stood there, watching
the flames dance in the night.
Finally, Jee broke the silence. "Alright, let's move on.
There's still more to see."
We resumed our walk, the atmosphere a little heavier but no
less meaningful.
As we walked through the glowing cemetery, the atmosphere
grew lighter with every playful remark. Jee, always the one to spark something
interesting, nudged Iytoi with a mischievous grin.
"Bet you can't guess how many candles are on that grave,"
she challenged, pointing to a particularly decorated spot.
Iytoi raised an eyebrow. "What do I get if I win?"
"A free meal from Ashan," Jee quipped.
"Why am I in this?" I protested, but the group only laughed.
Iytoi pretended to count the candles, squinting
dramatically. "Seventy-three," he declared confidently.
"It's eighty," Jee said smugly, as if she'd known the whole
time.
"That's cheating," Iytoi shot back. "You already looked!"
"Fine, fine," Jee said, waving off his accusation. "Next bet
will be fair. Let's make it interesting."
The group gathered around, intrigued. Jee glanced around at
the flickering graves and smirked. "I don't believe in ghosts or gods or any of
that stuff. Superstitions are just stories people tell themselves."
Iytoi, ever the quiet observer, suddenly spoke up. "If
you're so confident, let's put that belief to the test."
Jee tilted her head, curious. "Go on."
"I heard there's a grave," Iytoi began, his tone dropping to
a mysterious lilt. "Fifteen minutes' walk from here. It's abandoned—no candles,
no flowers, nothing. People say it's haunted, and no one dares to visit it."
The group exchanged glances. Even Rena, who wasn't easily
spooked, seemed a bit uneasy.
"And you want me to go there?" Jee asked, her tone
challenging.
"If you're not scared, then yes," Iytoi replied, a sly smile
tugging at his lips. "Prove your point. Show us there's nothing to it."
Jee folded her arms, looking at the group. "Alright, I'll
go. But Ashan, you're coming with me."
"Why me?" I asked, groaning. "There are, like, five other
people here. Take Iytoi; it was his idea!"
Jee rolled her eyes. "Because you're the easiest to drag
along. Plus, it'll be boring without you."
"Wow, I feel so special," I said, deadpan.
"Come on," Jee pressed, tugging at my sleeve. "You're not
scared, are you?"
"Scared? Of course not," I said, trying to sound convincing.
"But why should I risk my life just because you don't believe in ghosts?"
Jee smirked. "I don't believe in ghosts, but I'm not a fan
of the dark either. It's creepy, okay? That's why you're coming. You're my… um…
emotional support human."
"Oh, great," I muttered. "So now I'm a flashlight that walks
and talks."
Rena, who had been watching this exchange with an amused
expression, finally spoke up. "Just go with her, Ashan. She'll never let you
hear the end of it if you don't."
I sighed dramatically. "Fine, but let me make one thing
clear." I turned to Jee. "If I see anything even remotely suspicious out there,
just know I'm not staying to investigate. I'll run, and I won't think twice
about leaving you behind."
The group burst into laughter, but Jee wasn't fazed. "Fair
enough," she said with a grin. "But don't expect me to carry you if you trip
while running away."
With that, we set off toward the so-called haunted grave,
the others staying behind but watching us with a mix of amusement and concern.
As we walked further away from the light of the cemetery,
the darkness seemed to thicken.
"You know," I said, trying to lighten the mood, "this feels
like the start of every horror movie ever. Two idiots wander into the dark, and
boom—ghosts, demons, or worse."
Jee laughed. "If anything jumps out at us, you can handle
it. You've got the muscle."
"Muscle? Have you seen me?" I asked, gesturing to myself. "I
look like a bamboo stick with all brains and no brawn."
"Well, that's comforting," she said with mock sarcasm.
"Why don't you lead, then?" I suggested.
Jee shook her head quickly. "No way. I already told you—I'm
not scared of ghosts, but the dark gives me the creeps. So you're in front."
I sighed again. "This was such a bad idea…"