Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence and mature content.
*This story is about La Llorona-the Puerto Rican version. There are different versions of La Llorona in the world, from what I read online. I wanted to write something to celebrate Puerto Rican day, which is coming this year on June 11th. (I have Puerto Rican roots). I unfortunately can’t fully speak Puerto Rican (I know a few words), so I used Google Translate for the title and two sentences in the story. (The Google Translate sentences will have *). I added in my own twist for how I imagined La Llorona to be freed. If there are any inaccuracies, please let me know. The title is “The cries of La Llorona”. The main character is thirteen years old. Gacha Club character designs are on my wall. Enjoy!*
Alondra stared out the window, holding her blankets close. She was visiting her Titi Sofia for the weekend. Her parents were on their own vacation, so they left her with…Titi Sofia.
The visit was fine, until she told Alondra the story of Maria or as most people called her in Puerto Rico, “La Llorona, the weeping woman”.
She didn’t have to tell her right before bed.
Alondra couldn’t sleep, the thought of a screaming, crying woman in white flashing through her head.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to go to Cuyón river and see the woman for herself.
Alondra stood on the Puente de las Calabazas, over the Cuyón river. In only her thin summer pajamas, slippers, and jacket, she waited for her.
There was nothing but the sound of tree leaves and coqui frogs.
Alondra sighed. Maybe it really was just a legend. Maybe there was no La Llorona.
She was about to leave, when suddenly-
A woman in white, with fading skin, water clinging to her hair and dress, was on the bridge with her.
La Llorona, weeping woman.
With veiny hands, the woman grabbed Alondra by the neck and dragged her to the water.
“Stop! Please, stop!”
She didn’t let go.
Still, La Llorona pushed through the water.
Alondra hadn’t spoken Spanish in years, but…but what if La Llorona only spoke Spanish? What if…what if that was the only language she understood?
Alondra swallowed hard. La Llorona’s fingers were sinking through her skin. The water didn’t help things.
She had to try.
“*Mamá, por favor déjame ir.”
La Llorona let go. For a moment, Alondra thought that she saw a slight resolve in her eyes.
She disappeared in white.
Alondra swam through the lake, up to the bridge.
She had to get home.
Alondra opened the front door of her house, shivering. She had to get warm…quickly…
Titi Sofia was standing on the staircase.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Alondra played over the moment in Cuyón river in her head, that moment when La Llorona stared at her before disappearing.
Then, Titi Sofia walked up to her and took Alondra’s hand.
“Were you looking for her?” She asked.
“Next time don’t leave. You were lucky. Go and dry yourself. Change your clothes. Go to sleep.”
“Why were you on the stairs?”
“To check on you, now go and change before you catch a cold!” Titi Sofia said, letting go of her hand.
Alondra rushed to her room, still thinking of the encounter. In the legends, La Llorona was a lost, sad mother, beyond any help. But that was the key. She was a mother. She still had the motherly love deep within her heart. La Llorona wasn’t evil.
She just wanted to be loved.
*Mis hijos-My children. Hijos is the word for “male children”. Her name was Maria and she had two sons in the Puerto Rican version.
*Mamà, por favor déjame ir-Mom, please let me go. Por favor means please, I already knew that without Google Translate.
Titi means Aunt in Spanish.
Article I used to help write this story:La Llorona-Puerto Rican version