La Llorona (The Weeping Woman) - The Voice Whispering “My Children…” From Far Away Yet Right Beside You
That night was one of those nights when you weren’t supposed to go near the river.
My grandmother always said so.
Once the sun sets, stay away from the water.
And if you hear a woman crying, never answer.
I thought she was just trying to scare kids.
Our house wasn’t far from the river.
If you walked down the dirt path at the edge of the village, you could hear the water.
During the day, kids played there and adults washed clothes.
But at night, it was different.
That night, my little brother disappeared.
At first, we thought he was hiding somewhere in the house.
Under the bed, behind the kitchen, in the yard, near the chicken coop—
we searched everywhere.
He wasn’t there.
My mother started crying, and my father grabbed a flashlight and ran outside.
I was told not to follow, but I did anyway.
Then we heard it from the river.
A woman crying.
At first, it sounded far away.
Really far—like from the other side of the river.
“My children…”
When my father heard that voice, he stopped.
His face froze.
My grandmother grabbed my arm from behind.
“Don’t look.”
But I was already looking.
A woman was standing by the river.
She wore a white dress.
Her hair was wet and stuck to her face, and the hem of her dress was in the