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La Llorona

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La Llorona

The Spirit herself.

There is an old tale down in the southwest called La Llorona, I've never believed it, thinking it was just some stupid tale my grandfather told me to keep me away from the Rio Grande at night. He always told me the story for a bedtime story, twisted I know. The tale always went the same each night.

There once was a woman who lived in the very poor section of Juarez, right across the Rio Grande from where I lived. The woman, who was a mother, began a relationship with a wealthy man and wanted to become betrothed to him. The man did not know the woman was a mother and spurned her advances of toward betrothment.

The mother was thrown into the arms of insanity, she went back to her house and grabbed her children. She led them to the river and stabbed both her children and threw them into the river. After the deed was done, she ran back to her lover's house and told him she didn't have any children anymore, the man, when he saw her bloody white gown, spurned her for good and threw her outside his house.

This was the last straw for the woman's sanity, she cracked. She ran back to the river, screaming and tearing out her hair, trying in poor deluded vain to find her poor murdered children, but it was too late. Grandfather always said different versions of this part, so I have no idea which is the truth. Some say she stabbed and drowned herself in the river. Others say she was caught by a mob and killed for committing the murders. Either way, she died and that's when my grandfather says the weirdness began.

The townspeople soon heard a loud horrible wailing, akin to the Irish Banshee's, coming from the Rio Grande's banks. Some of the people who went and checked out the wailing saw something wandering the banks that had the body of a woman and sometimes the head of a horse. People knew after a while it was the woman who murdered her children, ultimately being punished for her sins. According to grandfather, she will appear when somebody drowns in the river, trust me that happens more than you'd like to think.

Now, for my story, one day after I turned seventeen, I was tired of hearing Grandfather's tale of La Llorona, thinking he was just being a senile old man, so my friends and I went down to the river after hearing somebody had drowned yet again in the river. We laughed and opened a couple beers to pass the time, mocking the legend of La Llorona. When all of a sudden this horrible wailing had started to sound out of nowhere. It was bad enough we had to cover our ears to stop from going deaf.

When we opened our eyes and uncovered our ears, the wailing had stopped. My friends and I looked at each other, and thought that had to be somebody playing a prank on us, we had told everybody that we were going to disprove the legend tonight. But nobody was around, at least that we could see. We got our courage and walked to the river's edge, at least I did.

I turned around and laughed at my friends who remained in the truck, only to see the torment in their faces and their fingers pointing out to the water. I turned around and was now face to face with La Llorona herself. She screamed her horrible wail that we'd heard just minutes before and took a hold of me, all the while pulling out a knife that looked ghostly, until the blade entered my chest and pierced my heart.

After the stab, La Llorona threw me into the river and disappeared. My friends ran away afraid they would be next in her attack. That's right, I was left to die by the people I called my friends. Anyway, I died drowning and bleeding to death. Now my spirit joins La Llorona in her wailing, keeping her company and finding more people to join us in this hellish afterlife.

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