“I knew she wanted to take me, for she came right at me with her arms outstretched.” La Llorona Eyewitness

She is a glowing figure in white, condemned to wander the earth for all eternity, in a vain search for her lost children. She will never find them, nor will she ever find peace.

She haunts the lonely highways and river banks of the Central Coast from the Nipomo Mesa to Sespe Creek in Ventura.

People who have encountered her say they hear a mournful cry, “Dónde están mis hijos?” (“Where are my children?”) followed by the specter herself, coming straight at them, intent on carrying them away.

She goes by many names — the Wailing Woman, the Woman in White — but she is known most commonly as La Llorona, and her story is shrouded in mystery.

Her roots go all the way back to the Valley of Mexico, and by some accounts she even predates the arrival of Hernán Cortés and his Conquistadores in 1519.

Octavio Paz, in his collection of essays The Labyrinth of Solitude, asserts that she is derived from the Aztec goddess Chiuacoatl.

Chiuacoatl was an earth goddess, the goddess of childbirth, watching over women who died bringing a child into the world.

Like La Llorona, she made her presence known after sundown: “By night she walked weeping and wailing, a dread phantom …”

Others connect La Llorona with La Malinche, the Aztec woman who assisted Cortés in his conquest of Mexico.

With her linguistic skills and her knowledge of the terrain, she played an essential role in overcoming Moctezuma and the Aztecs.  Also known as Doña Marina and Malintzin, she is believed to have become Cortés’ mistress and had at least one child by him.

Branded a traitor by her people, she is still remembered today “as the one villainess in Mexican history … the ethnic traitress supreme.” Her punishment is to be forever an outcast, spending eternity searching for her home and her children.

But in what is by far the most common version of the story of La Llorona, her name is Maria and she comes from a poor village in Mexico. She marries a wealthy young man and together they have three children.

But Maria’s husband leaves her for another woman, and Maria drowns their children in a nearby river to get revenge. For this she is condemned to wander the night, seeking the children she murdered.

Both Maria and La Malinche bear a strong resembled to Medea of Greek mythology. Medea is a princess of the kingdom of Colchis. She aids Jason in his quest for the Golden Fleece, helping him get past the serpent that guarded it.

In doing so, she betrays her people as well as her father, King Aeëtes, and her brother, Apsyrtus, whom she kills in some versions of the story.

When Jason flees with his prize she goes with him and they settle in the Greek city of Corinth. Together they have three sons.

Jason, however, loses interest in Medea and marries King Creon’s daughter, Creusa.

Jealous and humiliated, Medea gets her revenge by murdering their children.

Female spirits of the night are found in many parts of the world, in one guise or another.

Slavic myth has Baba Yaga, a witch who lives deep in the forest, capturing passing children and devouring them.

In Ireland dwells the Banshee, whose terrible cries mean death is nearby.

Lilith in Jewish mythology is Adam’s first wife, and a snatcher and murderer of unwary children unfortunate enough to encounter her.

So many of these tales of malevolent spirits take place on riverbanks or near steams and lakes because rivers have long been seen as a boundary between life and death.

In Greek mythology, the River Styx was one of five rivers of the underworld, and it formed the dividing line between the world of the living and the world of the dead.

When a person died they had to be ferried across the Styx by Charon the boatman in order to get to the afterlife. Failing to cross meant they had to roam the riverbanks and haunt the living.

In Slavic folklore the Rusalka was the restless spirit of a young woman who drowned in a river, and she lurks near rivers in order to lure men into the water and drown them.

England has the story of Jenny Greenteeth, a water-hag who stays beneath the surface of a pond or a lake and delights in seizing children who come too close to the water and pull them under.

The Wailing Woman, the Woman in White, La Llorona — her story will live on no matter what name she is given.

It is a cautionary tale, like Hansel and Gretel or Little Red Riding Hood, told to children to keep them from wandering too far from home, lest they encounter someone or something that wants to harm them.

If you are near a river or a lake on a dark night and you hear a long, mournful cry, followed by a translucent white shape coming your way, let discretion be the better part of valor and step aside.

She inhabits the netherworld between the living and the dead, and like Mr. Scrooge’s partner Jacob Marley, who is condemned to carry the chain that he forged in life, she has to carry her grief and guilt until time itself comes to an end.

Central Coast novelist Mark James Miller is a retired Allan Hancock College English instructor and the author of Red Tide, The White Cockade and The Summer Soldiers. The opinions expressed are his own.