A year ago, my grandpa passed away, but before he passed, I asked him if the story he told me when I was little was true. That story was how he hear the screams of La Llorona. First some background. This happened in the early 90’s, in a small town outside Mexico City. My Mom’s side of the family is quite poor and because of this, my grandparents and their 12 children, including my mom, could only live in a house of 3 rooms, with 1 being the kitchen. This resulted in their two other rooms being cramped at night. And this gets worse when it gets hot outside in the summer, which is when this story takes place.
One night, my grandpa couldn’t sleep because of the heat, so he decided to take a walk outside to cool down. Outside he began to walk to the center of the town they lived at. Usually there would be people at the towns cantina getting drunk, but that night was different. When my grandpa pass the place, he saw that the owner was closing the bar earlier than normal with a worried look. My grandpa simply thought that the bar didn’t get enough customers to stay open for the night, so he continued to walk without any worries. Looking back at it, he realized that, that could have been a warning about what was yet to come.
He continued to walk until he was reaching the edge of town, that’s when he thought it was about time to head back. Right after walking back, he began hearing a faint cry from the edge of the town. He quickly though that he imagined it, and continued to walk home. This quickly changed when he hear the cry once again but a bit more louder. He decided to walk a bit more faster, thinking that maybe some teens were trying to scare him because he was alone. He continued to quicken his pace, when after 5-10 minutes of hearing the growing crying, it suddenly sounded like a ear screeching cry no less than 10 feet behind him, that’s when he booked it. He said that even though he was reaching his mid 50’s, he felt like he ran faster than he had ever ran in his younger days. After running for 3-5 minutes, he stopped after only hearing the faint crying once again. Throughout all of this, my grandpa never turned around to see who was making the cry’s, he said that it never occurred to him to turn around, but I have a feeling that he didn’t what to know what could make that loud cry. Anyways, he had a feeling that the crying would eventually reach him again, so he began to knock on doors that had light coming out of the windows. After knocking for 2 minutes on homes, none of them would open and he even swore that he saw some homes even turn off theirs lights just to make him leave. He doesn’t blame them though, they probably thought that he was a drunk man trying to figure out what home he lived in. So he quickly gave up, and began to walk quickly back to his house again. That’s when he heard someone following him from afar. He didn’t hear the screaming anymore but he still won’t turn around. When he was almost reaching his house, the loud screaming began once again, but now no less than 2 feet behind him. Again he ran for it but no matter how fast he ran, the screaming continued at the same volume, like as if whatever was following him was keeping up with his pace. My grandpa finally saw the turn to directly reach his home and made a sharp turn and entered the front yard. The second he made that turn, the screaming stopped.
When he got inside, there was my grandpa in the kitchen. She asked him where he went to and he hold her what happened. When he finished, they were both quiet. Even though the screaming stopped when he reached the small front lawn, my grandma said that she didn’t hear any screaming from where she was, and the two returned to silents. After a minute of thinking she then asked if he knew who was making the screaming. He said no because he didn’t turn around to see, and my grandma told him that he made the right choice to not turn around, because that screaming, was most likely La Llorona. Before this, neither one of them actually believed the stories and only used them to scare their kids. But after this, my grandparents didn’t allow anyone to leave at night, except if they went in a group. And they even banned their children to leave for parties at night, except if one of them went along. Even in his last months of living, he continued to claim that his story was real, and I told him that I believed him and even after his death, I still do.