La Llorona

The juice was sweet, a little too bitter at the end though. ‘Bitter,’ I learned that word in class last week. To me, bitter tasted like nasty cherry medicine; but some woman, some big rim hat wearing woman, kept putting it in my Mickey Mouse water bottle, while mommy went to the bathroom. It happened when I was right outside the door to the lady’s room, filling my water bottle at the fountain. Mommy yelled through the door, saying she was almost done with her really big poo. She giggled when she heard me tumble down with laughter, spilling my water all over the floor. The woman came toward me, helped me up. I could really only see her gleaming cowboy boots, a shimmering belt buckle, and that big hat with a much bigger flower. I wondered if bees ever nestled in it by mistake, and then flew down and stung her. It looked like the perfect perfume-y place for bugs. She picked up my bottle too. “I’ll fill this back up for you kid, with something sweeter than water. How old are you?” She said while eyeing me. “11, Ma’am.” “That’s perfect. And where are you from?” “Arizona. What’s perfect, Ma’am?” “The perfect age to meet a very special friend. She likes talkers.” “Who are you talking to honey?” I hear my mom say. It’s the last thing I remember, apart from the door of the lady’s room opening quickly. Now, I’m by a river. The warm water is lapping up the sand and small rocks, tickling my toes. I hear music in a little village not far away, it makes the ground around me thump with the vibrations. I wonder if mommy is there. The little shacks are so pushed together, but the little colored light bulbs from each one makes it look like a fun, cool place. I start to get stuck with fear. Where am I? If I could find a place I know, maybe I could make it back to the hotel. Mommy must be worried; she wanted our road trip to be worry free, just full of fun. She said we were in Texas.Was I still in Texas? I look around for any sign of my location. Nothing turns up. There’s a really cold breeze and I start to shake real bad, stretching my little jacket to cover my knees. I hear very soft, very light singing on the wind. I look towards the village but its quiet now, the lights turned off, no music that shakes the shacks or the ground. Its somewhere over the river. I try to move, but my legs only twitch. There is mist and fog over the river as the singing gets louder. I grip my little teddy bear in my pocket, so small it could fit a key chain but big enough in courage to fill me with strength. He himself is full of all the courage and strength in the world and that is why his name is Sir Lancelot. And then all the fog and mist disappears, and there’s a lady in the middle of the river. She’s in a long white dress, her face covered by a white veil. I can see brown wavy hair flowing to her hips. “You look so lost, you are found now. I can be your companion.” “I, um...where am I?” She laughed. “In Mexico. I have come across a lot of little lost children not from Mexico. I wonder why that is...” Her eyes shifted to the little town and they narrowed. Her eyes glowed yellow through the veil. “I want to go home, with my mom.” “But I am your mother now.”