By: Emmie Mora
View all Emmie Mora's works
Forward: La Llorona is a South American legend about a woman who drowned her children and killed herself. The legend part is that she wanders around near rivers and streams, weeping for the youth she didn’t want to kill. She drags children under water, thinking that was her child and then taking them to heaven. Her name translates to “the crier.”
In this story, La Llorona meets another legendary creative, a kappa. In Japan, it was rumored to distract its victims with its shiny, green, plate-like head, the rest of the body submerged underwater. As the victim went nearer, the kappa would noisily eat the victim alive with its birdlike beak.
In this short tale, words in Spanish are said, followed by the translation. Now that you know everything to know, let’s do this!
La Llorona: The Sequel
A family of three, Milagros, Paloma and their child, Alfonso, were eating avuagate, avocado and watermelon, by the stream next to their house. They were laughing together, telling chistos, jokes, as as Alfonso described his school day.
At one point, they decided to start making music together. Alfonso got his violin. Paloma got her guitarra, her guitar. Milagros got ready to sing. Together, they did a song called “A la media noche,” a tune their Puerto Rican cousin taught them.
As they played and had fun, an old woman from the other side of the river arose from the darkness. It was La Llorona. She sank into the deep blue depths, swam across the river, and pulled Alfonso down. His violin went into the hot water, which made it very out of tune. However, a kappa was hoping to make Alfonso’s family a nice dinner. She spotted the kappa as Alfonso screamed and kicked.
“Nete de este lugar, cabez de avuagate! Leave this place, avocado head!” snapped La Llorona.
“What are you going to do to me, marry another rich man and have him threaten me with his money?” the kappa said back.
La Llorona got so infuriated she let go of Alfonso without realizing. She rolled up her sleeves and took off her earrings.
“Don’t try me, beaked, quote-on-quote horror. Now, get away from my kid, or I’ll use this nice, shiny pink belt I found from one of the girls I drowned,” she argued.
“You think you’re so tough by drowning children? I survived both World Wars. The Norse and the Green Monster fought with me, and here I am. You ever wonder what happens with things in the Bermuda Triangle? I consumed it. I ate Amelia Earhart for breakfast.”
At that moment, La Llorona noticed that Alfonso had escaped. She turned around. She saw both Milagros and Paloma charging at her, one sandal off each in their hand, ready to strike. Both mothers were screaming, “YOU MESS WITH MY FAMILY, YOU GET THE CHANCLETA! “