Each summer, I walked a wooden catwalk in North Florida, that ran beside a clear river surrounded by a huge swamp filled with large cypress trees. Late at night, the frogs croaked and alligators called. The moon glimmered thorough the moss laden trees, and cast a faint light upon the boards.

Perhaps she did see me, and I’m thankful she moved on. It was in that swamp, beside that river, alone, that I knew complete peace and love. -Nevada:)

No ideas about the Scary Story, I’m afraid.
Carrie

The skeptic in me suggests that someone else handed the guitar in under Lance Baker’s name, for some reason, but I’m not listening to her. I want to know what happened to Leonard.

Gripping stuff; can’t wait for the next instalment.

I’ve got a WIP called The Weeping that centers on her. I’m eager to start writing it, but have too much on my plate at this time. It’s nothing like the Cry and, on that note, you didn’t miss anything. The Cry was a low budget film and that hardly made sense. It angered me, actually, that such a bad story rose from a poignant legend that continues to stalk the modern world. And yes, many have followed in her footsteps. I hate to think what will happen to them.

Be happy you didn’t know about her in your childhood, but know that she may have seen you. Perhaps she summed you up and moved on in search of easier prey? Be safe… LL

Sadly, throughout the years, so many mothers have followed in Maria’s footsteps…using rivers such as the Hudson, Wardsboro, Edisto, and when a river is not convenient, a lake, pond, or even bathtub will suffice. I wonder if these mothers will one day be sentenced to an eternity of weeping for their lost children, and like the legend, will they also claim the lives of more innocent children.

I’m glad I didn’t learn about this in my childhood. I love the water at night, and camping near a river. While I often enjoy the sounds of frogs, alligators, and owls, I will now listen for the cries of La Llorona.
Peace! Nevada:))