Whiner, the Weeping Woman

Whiner, the Weeping Woman

Bruno Roggen

In a part of Deepbrook called Cherry Orchard, separated from the main village by a thick forest, lived a woman named Annica. She was known by everyone as “Whiner” because her eyes were always full of tears. Nevertheless, she was a woman of great beauty, with long dark hair that cascaded down her back and dark moist eyes that seemed to hold deep secrets.

Annica was the mother of two small children, both girls, who were her greatest pride and joy. Her life revolved around them, and although her husband had left her a few years ago to live with an older woman in the village of Skeelan, Annica remained steadfast and full of love for her children.

The hamlet they lived in, Cherry Orchard, had an air of mystery. There were a few adobe houses, some with red tile roofs and others thatched with straw, lined up along narrow and winding sand roads. At night, a dense fog rose from the river Deamer that ran through Cherry Orchard, enveloping everything in a white, damp blanket. A part of this river near Cherry Orchard was called “The Mewkess”. It was said that this part of the river was enchanted, and that spirits lived there in its waters, watching over the darkest secrets of the earth.

Annica had a calm character, but something in her tearing eyes always reflected a deep melancholy. Despite the apparent peace of her life, in her heart she carried a sorrow that she didn’t share with anyone. The elders of the town, those who had seen more than they would like to remember, murmured among themselves, claiming that the Whiner had made a pact with forces they did not understand, and that the pain in her heart was the price she paid for her past actions.

The nights in Cherry Orchard were cold and silent, only interrupted by the distant whisper of the wind moving the branches of the trees and the sound of the river flowing slowly. But there was one night a year when the entire village of Deebrook was plunged into deep fear: the summer solstice. On that night, the boundaries between the living and the dead became blurred, and spirits could walk among mortals.

It was on one of those nights that Annica's story took an unexpected turn. The children, with their innocent laughter and games, did not suspect what was coming. Their mother, however, seemed more distant than ever, her eyes increasingly absent, as if a dark shadow loomed over her. And that night, when the fog began to rise from the river, Annica let the weight of her secret drag her to an uncertain fate. The river, with its dark and cold waters, became the scene of one of the most tragic events the village of Deepbrook would ever witness. The villagers, hearing the heartbreaking cry of a mother who had lost everything, gathered on the shore of the Deamer, their hearts beating with fear and sadness…. Annica the Whiner had disappeared along with her children, and the river held her fate within its waters.

Since then, a legend was born in Deepbrook: that of Annica the Whiner, a woman who wanders at night, looking for her lost children, her crying filling the air and making anyone who hears it shudder with terror. But what no one knows is the true story of what happened that night, a story that still remains buried deep in the waters of the river.

That fateful night of the summer solstice, the shortest night of the year, while the villagers slept restlessly, something strange happened in the river. The fog seemed thicker than usual, covering everything like a white shroud. The waters, which usually flowed calmly, began to stir as if something in their depths was awakening…

Annica, with her heart broken and her mind clouded by pain, approached the river, leading her children by the hand. Legend has it that in an act of desperation, the Whiner threw her children into the river, then plunged herself into the waters, hoping to be reunited with her girls in the afterlife…

But the reality was very different. When Annica reached the shore of The Mewkess, a deep, whispering voice stopped her. It was a voice that seemed to come from the waters themselves, as if the river were speaking to her.

“Annica,” the voice said, “your pain has reached the depths of my being. But before you do something crazy, I offer you a deal. You can save your children and be free of your grief, but in exchange, you must give me something you value more than your own life.”

Confused and terrified, Annica looked at her children, who watched her with innocent eyes, not understanding the danger that threatened them.

“What I value most in this world are my children,” she replied in a broken voice. “I can offer you nothing more.”

The voice laughed, a cold, cruel sound that echoed through the night over the waters of The Mewkess.

“That is not what I want, Annica. I offer you the chance to erase all your pain, to take your girls to safety. But in exchange, you must give your soul to the river. You will become a part of me, the spirit that will guard my waters for eternity.”

Annica, feeling her mind darkening, looked at her children one last time.

“I accept,” she murmured, barely able to speak. “Do whatever you want with me, but save my girls.”

The river, pleased with the deal, raised a wave that engulfed the children, gently carrying them to the opposite shore near the hamlet of Godbriar, where the mist hid them from their mother’s sight. Annica, seeing that her children were safe, felt momentary relief. But before she could do anything else, she felt her body turn cold, her limbs go numb, and her soul was torn from her being, absorbed by the dark waters of the river. From that moment on, Maria became a real Whiner, a spirit trapped between the world of the living and the dead, condemned to wander the banks of the river, crying her heart out while looking for her children, even though she knew she would never see them again. Every time someone came too close to the waters, her crying echoed, a reminder of her eternal pain and the promise she had made.

Years passed, and the story of the Whiner spread beyond Deepbrook, becoming a legend told throughout Lyme Borough County and beyond. But what few knew was that the real tragedy was not Annica's fate, but that of her children. For the river, in its malice, didn’t take them to safety, but made them disappear into the mist, hiding them in a world between this one and the next, where they would wander for eternity, as lost as their mother.

The mist, which still rose every summer solstice, was the only witness to this story, a veil covering the secrets of the river and the tragedy that occurred there. And so, the Whiner continued to wander, her cry echoing in the night, an echo of her pain that would never find comfort.

As time passed, the legend of Annica the Whiner took deep root in the hearts of the inhabitants of Deepbrook, Hazelstead and even as far as Ghinck and Daiste. No one dared to approach the river at The Mewkess after dark, for fear of hearing the heartbreaking cry of Annica, which was said to draw those who heard it to certain death.

But what no one knew was that, beneath that eternal anguish, the Whiner continued to search for a way to break her curse. One night, many years after that tragic event, a young girl named Lauretta, who had just arrived in the village, decided to defy the warnings and walk to the river. Lauretta was brave and curious, two qualities that had been both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. Upon arriving in Deepbrook, she had heard the stories of the Whiner, and instead of being frightened, she felt a strange connection to the woman of legend. Something inside her was driving her to discover the truth, to know more about that lost soul.

That night, the moon was full over Cherry Orchard, and its pale light illuminated the path to the river. Lauretta walked into the fog, feeling the cold in her bones, but not stopping. The sound of the flowing water grew louder and louder, and soon she reached the shore of the Deamer. There, she stood silently, waiting, not really knowing what she hoped to find. Suddenly, a whisper rose through the fog, soft at first, but then clearer, like a lament.

It was the cry of the Whiner! Lauretta felt a chill run down her spine, but she did not back away. Instead, she moved forward a little further, until she saw a blurry figure in the distance. It was Annica, her face pale and her eyes full of tears of despair, as if she had been carrying unbearable pain for centuries.

“Why have you come?” the Whiner asked in a voice that seemed to be made of wind and water. Lauretta didn’t know what to answer at first, but then, with the courage that had brought her there, she said:

“I have come to help you.”

The Whiner looked at her with a mixture of surprise and sadness.

“No one can help me, child. I am condemned to wander this shore forever, searching for what I can never find.”

But Lauretta was not impressed, nor intimidated.

“I have heard your story, but I think there is something else we do not know,” she said. “Perhaps there is a way to break the curse.”

The Whiner was silent for a moment, as if considering what Lauretta was saying. Then her face twisted into a bitter expression.

“The river betrayed me,” she whispered. “It promised to save my children, but it made them disappear. I don’t know where they are, and I can’t rest until I find them.”

Lauretta, feeling deep compassion for the grieving mother, moved closer, until she was only a few steps away from her. “Let me help you look for them,” she said determinedly. “Together we can find them and free them from this place.”

For an instant, the Whiner’s eyes lit up with a spark of hope. “Why would you do that for me?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Because we all deserve a second chance,” Lauretta replied. “Even you, Annica.”

The spectral figure nodded slowly, as if for the first time in centuries she felt there was a chance for redemption. Together, Annica and Lauretta began to walk along the river, searching for clues, listening to the whispers of the water and peering into the mist. It was as if the river was revealing its secrets, little by little. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they came to a part of the river near the Miserick bridge where the water was clear and calm, reflecting the full moon. It was there that Lauretta felt a strange energy, as if something invisible was moving beneath the surface. She knelt down beside the water and, without thinking twice, dipped her hands in. An intense coldness ran through her, but she didn't stop. Suddenly, she felt something solid between her fingers. She pulled gently, and two small figures emerged from the water. They were Annica's children, their faces as pale as their mother's, but with an expression of peace that contrasted with the pain they had endured. The Whiner, seeing her children, fell to her knees, her tears turning into a sigh of relief.

“My girls…” Annica murmured, as her children slowly faded away, as if they could finally rest in peace.

Lauretta walked away, letting Annica have her moment of farewell. She knew she had fulfilled her mission, that she had freed the Whiner and her children from eternal torment. Annica’s spectral figure began to fade as well, but not before she cast one last grateful glance at Lauretta.

“Thank you,” the Whiner whispered, before disappearing completely, leaving only the calm of the river and the silence of the night. Lauretta, now alone by the river, felt a strange mix of sadness and relief. She had helped solve a tragedy that had lasted for centuries, and although the legend of the Whiner would never be forgotten, she now knew that her spirit had finally found peace…

With the Whiner gone, the mood in Deepbrook began to change. The fog, which had been a constant and oppressive presence, became lighter, less ominous. The villagers, not knowing exactly what had happened, began to notice that the air seemed cleaner, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from the village. No one heard the desperate crying that had terrorized the inhabitants for generations anymore, and the river, although it continued to flow with the same serenity, seemed to have left its dark secrets behind.

Lauretta returned to her home at Boarmarsh, feeling a peace within her that she had not experienced before. She didn’t speak to anyone about what she had experienced that night, knowing that it was a story that most would not be able to understand. But in her heart, she knew that she had done the right thing, and that was enough.

Over time, Lauretta became a respected figure in Boarmarsh, Skeelan and even in Herchville and Daiste, known for her bravery and wisdom. Although she never told what had really happened to the Whiner, many noticed that something had changed in her after that night by the river Deamer. Her gaze, once curious and fearless, now had a tinge of deep understanding, as if she had seen beyond what most people could imagine.

The river, meanwhile, once again became a place where children played during the day, without the fear of the old tales. Although the legend of the Whiner continued to be told, it was now seen as a warning about the dangers of despair, but also as a story of redemption. Those who heard it, especially the young, found in it a lesson about the power of forgiveness and the importance of not giving up, even in the darkest of times. Years passed, and Lauretta grew old in Boarmarsh, the village where she was born and which she had chosen as her home. Meanwhile, Deepbrook prospered, and although the world changed around it, the river and its stories remained. And so the legend of the Whiner, though transformed, remained part of the cultural fabric of the place, reminding everyone that even the most lost souls could find peace if given a second chance.

© Bruno Roggen, Anhée, 2025