The Veiled Woman

Jessica lay in bed, sweat staining her pillow and sheets. The bedroom was a chaotic mess, dirty clothes indistinguishable from the clean ones strewn about the floor. The ceiling fan creaked in a steady rhythm and she was thankful for the white noise. It drowned out the silence, which could be deafening at night. The silence was almost as bad as the darkness. Although she was well into her twenties, Jessica’s small room was lit by a soft night-light in the shape of a crescent moon. The darkness had a way of creeping up on her, and if she wasn’t careful, it would swallow her whole. 

Jessica needed to sleep, but she feared her dreams. She feared the Veiled Woman. Jessica fought the sleep as though it were her oldest enemy, her truest foe, but her eyes drooped, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

Jessica stood in a hospital nursery. Crib upon crib lined the white linoleum room. Lopsided mobiles spun above each crib, making the same creaking as her fan. The place smelled like a mix of piss and antiseptic. Babies wailed, their combined cries forming an unholy choir, a dissonance that made her stomach churn. There was no door anywhere in the room, but one end held an observation window for the parents to see the babies. A shadowy silhouette stood there, expressionless. The figure raised a finger, pointing behind Jessica.  

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word,” came a dry, scratchy voice from the other end of the room. It was a voice she knew well. 

“Momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.” The Veiled Woman stood over a crib. She wore a black sleeveless gown, showing arms covered in old silver scars. A black veil obscured her face. Two fresh cuts graced her wrists, leaking her lifeblood onto the white floor. 

“And if that mockingbird don’t sing,” The Veiled Woman sang, if one could call it that. She reached into the crib and picked up a small baby girl. She held the baby up to her bleeding wrist, and the child drank as though it were the finest mother’s milk. 

“Momma’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.” The Veiled Woman turned, and Jessica could feel her gaze. 

Jessica couldn’t move. Her hairs stood on end and there was a metallic taste in her mouth, like she had bitten her tongue. She wanted to cry out for help, but her mouth wouldn’t open. She was helpless. 

“And if that diamond ring turns to brass.” The Veiled Woman walked toward Jessica, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. The baby cooed and cawed. 

“Momma’s gonna buy you a looking glass.” Closer and closer, she inched. Jessica knew she was dreaming, but she could not wake. 

“And if that looking glass gets broke.” The baby had grown fat on the blood. Her skin turned blue.

“Momma’s gonna buy you a billy goat.” The Veiled Woman stood right in front of her. The blood from her wrists had run dry, and the baby stared at Jessica, a hungry look in its eye.

“And if that billy goat runs away.” The baby crawled onto Jessica. It opened its mouth, revealing sharp, bloody teeth. Too many teeth. 

“Momma’s gonna buy you another some day.” The Veiled Woman reached her hands up, grabbing the veil. She lifted it up. Jessica screamed as the baby’s teeth sank into her neck. 

Jessica awoke in a cold sweat. She grabbed her phone and turned it on. Jessica pumped up the brightness, searing her eyes with blue light. She had to stay up. Her heart raced. Her pale skin was damp with sweat. Jessica grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled. Continuing like this was no longer possible. She had been having the dream for weeks, and it kept getting worse. Jessica feared she would never sleep again, and that was sounding more like relief than torture. What would it be like to never dream again, to never be so out of control? 

Jessica had to do something. She pulled up her phone and typed in “dream help.” She scrolled past information she didn’t understand and ads for items she couldn’t afford until one ad drew her gaze. It was an event happening downtown, a lecture on dreams held at a unitarian church. The event was later today, and she aimed to be there, but the hard part would be staying awake until then. She got out of bed and paced in her room. The image of the Veiled Woman lingered in her mind. 

There would be no sleep for her tonight. 

Jessica stepped through the great, rounded oak doors that led into the Unitarian church. A long hall stretched out before her, with stained glass windows at the other end. No saints or angels, just geometric designs in pinks, blues, and greens. People filled the room, sitting and staring at a projector screen displaying a slide-show. A pasty man in a yellow shirt stood behind a podium. He had combed his meager hair over a bright bald spot. His name was at the top of the slide in mold: Marshall Hammond. He somehow managed to, mid-lecture, cast her a withering glare that only a seasoned teacher could pull off.

Jessica was late, and her heart was in her throat. People were staring at her. They always stared at you when you’re late, silently judging you. It wasn’t her fault the city was so confusing and hard to park in. A woman at the front gave her a name tag and showed her to an open seat. 

“Dreams are the one thing we can rely on,” Marshall said. “They’re the unifying force behind existence. No matter what language we speak, we all dream, which makes dreams a universal language. It’s the way our unconscious speaks to us, with symbol and metaphor. Some of you may think you don’t dream, but the truth is you simply don’t remember.”

Jessica looked around the room. She hadn’t expected so many people. No one she knew was interested in dreams, but maybe these people were like her. Maybe they had nightmares they wanted to stop. She brought out her journal and pretended to write what the man was saying, but she was doodling, drawing little swords and flowers. Jessica found it hard to focus if her hands weren’t active. 

“There are many reasons we don’t remember our dreams,” Marshall said. “The most obvious one is cultural. Unlike every civilization in recorded history, we place no importance on dreams. Science has found a way of robbing dreams of wonder and magic. They are just random firings of neurons, the brain’s way of processing the day. Why remember something that isn’t important? The second reason is a lack of practice. In a culture that doesn’t appreciate dreams, the muscle never gets worked. The less obvious reason we don’t remember has to do with the content of dreams. Dreams tell the truth, and we rarely want to face the truth. Tell me, by a show of hands, who in here has had a dream they did not want to have?”

Jessica raised her hand, as did everyone else in the room, including Marshall. 

“You see, you are not alone. So is it any surprise we push them down if they can be so painful? The truth is fraught with fear, and so we run from the dreams, pushing them down. We deny them their say, but the dreams do not go away. All that goes away is your awareness of them, and I can tell you from experience, it is hard to heal a wound you cannot admit to. The first step to improving your relationship with dreams is remembering them. To achieve this, we recommend keeping a dream journal. Leave it on your beside table and write the dreams when you wake up.” 

The lecture went on like this for an hour. Jessica tried and failed to remember everything that was said.

“All right, that is the end of what I have prepared,” Marshall said. “I’ll open it up to all of you. Does anyone have questions?”

Jessica didn’t want to be the first to raise her hand, but no one else raised theirs, and she needed the nightmares to stop. She raised her hand.

“Yes,” the professor said. 

“How do you stop nightmares,” she asked, color coming to her cheeks. It was an embarrassing thing to admit to, like something a child would say as it crawls into bed with its parents. 

“What a wonderful question,” Marshall said. “We all get them. It might be a monster chasing you or some shameful encounter at work. Nightmares are a common occurrence, especially in the west. Dreams are truth tellers. Open your ears to what they are saying. Open your eyes to what they are showing. Often, it is our own internalized fears personified. The psychologist Carl Jung called this the Shadow, the piece of you that you reject out of fear or shame, anger or neglect. It takes the form you fear, but its true aim is to come home. It seeks the light, for it is a thing of the dark. If you want the nightmares to stop, then you must face them. Embrace the dark, for the dark is you. Love the dark and the dark will love too. Does that make sense?”

Jessica nodded, for she didn’t want to offend him by saying no. 

“Is there a central figure in these nightmares,” Marshall asked.

Jessica nodded. “A woman.”

“And you fear her?”

Again, she nodded. 

“Why?”

“The woman’s body is covered in wounds, and she wears a veil. She’s a monster.”

“So you cannot see her,” Marshall said, “and she is in pain. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Jessica said. “I’m not in pain.”

Marshall looked around the room. “Then you would be the only one here who isn’t. There’s no shame in admitting your pain. The first step to healing the Shadow is admitting it needs to be healed. You have already done that, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Reject the pain, and it will rule you. Accept the pain, and it will move through you.”

The professor took more questions from the audience, but Jessica didn’t hear them. Her mind was a million miles away. She pictured the Veiled Woman, covered in blood. Could she really be a part of her, some piece she had rejected because it was too visceral, too animal? Jessica didn’t know if she could love her, but she was certain now she would have to try. 

Jessica had been reading since the lecture, familiarizing herself with the language of dreams. One technique spoke of going directly into a dream from waking. She would try anything that would give her an edge. 

Jessica lay in bed, a leather journal keeping her company in it. She had written the date for the next day. She cut out her small night-light to familiarize herself with the darkness. It was not a thing to be feared but embraced, just like herself. She was afraid, but there was something that rested beneath the fear, a deep knowing that what she was doing was right and would help.

Jessica breathed deeply through her nose, somehow finding that sweet spot between sleep and awake. Her body fell asleep, her arms and legs tingling, itching for her to move, to roll over, to scratch, but she remained perfectly still. 

Lights flickered in front of her eyes, little sprites that came from nowhere and disappeared to nowhere. Bursts of white and orange. If what she had read was right, then she was close. She would be asleep soon. The tingling in her limbs had become full on vibrations, rocking through her body with ever-increasing intensity. The lights filled her vision, forming vague shapes and impressions. 

A room. A crib. 

Her heart dropped as her body fell. There was a moment where she felt suspended in an all-encompassing void, and the next moment she was in the nursery. 

The white walls. The smell. She was here, and she knew she was dreaming. She had to keep reminding herself, for the thought seemed elusive in this place. The dream didn’t seem to want her to know it was a dream. 

The Veiled Woman stood at the other end of the room, shrouded in shadow, her black veil making her seem like a body without a head. Jessica could feel her sickening gaze, even through the veil, dripping with malice. 

“Rockabye baby in the treetop,” the Veiled Woman croaked. She picked up a baby from the crib. 

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” The Veiled Woman clutched the baby by the ankle and swung it about. 

“Stop,” Jessica screamed. The baby laughed as it swung through the air. 

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.” The Veiled Woman held the baby high above her head. The baby clapped its hands, having the time of its life. 

“And down will come baby, cradle and all.” She dropped the baby. 

Jessica dove forward and caught the baby before it hit the ground. The baby cried, its face turning red. Teeth sprouted from its mouth. It dug its teeth into her flesh, but she did not turn away. She embraced it, reminding herself that this was a dream. If it were to cause her pain, it would be a pain she submitted to. 

The bite didn’t hurt. Now that the baby was attached to her, she felt what it felt. It simply wanted love, and did not know how to ask for it. She wrapped her arms around the child and made soft sounds in the back of her throat. She rocked it back and forth, giving the love that a mother might, though she had never been a mother. 

“I love you,” Jessica said. The baby dissolved into white light. She breathed in, the light entering her body. A warmth blossomed in her chest. 

The Veiled Woman stood over her, breathing heavy, her veil rising and falling. She raked her nails over her arms, drawing blood. She held out her bloody hands, reaching for Jessica. 

Jessica should be afraid. This was when she would wake up, filled with fear, but she stood her ground. Looking at her now, all Jessica saw was a creature in pain, something that needed attention and love. 

So she didn’t run. Jessica didn’t force herself to wake. She let the Veiled Woman grab her. The Veiled Woman did not scratch Jessica, nor did she bite her. The woman wrapped her in a warm embrace. She sobbed into Jessica’s shoulder; the terror falling off of her. This was no monster. She was just a woman. 

“You’re home,” Jessica said into the Veiled Woman’s ear. 

The tension and the pain in the Veiled Woman dissolved. Her wounds faded. She lifted her veil. Jessica stood staring at herself, only this version of herself was different. Written in her eyes was a story of heartbreak and pain. 

“You’ve been having to take on all the things I couldn’t face,” Jessica said. 

Her Shadow smiled. “I cannot take care of you if you refuse to take care of yourself. I am the piece of you that you rejected, the mother who hurts instead of nurtures. All I wanted was to love you, but you ran from me. You feared me, and your fear made me what I am; a nightmare. I only ever wanted you to share the load.”

“I didn’t know how,” Jessica said. “No one ever taught me. I was a child.”

“Healing, like love, cannot be taught, only learned. If you are to be whole, you must learn to mother yourself. Learn to love the parts of yourself that seem unlovable. If you reject a piece, you reject the whole. You wouldn’t be here doing this if you didn’t want to be whole. It is difficult, but no one ever said it was supposed to be easy. Growing is painful, but it is the pain of birth. This is merely the beginning. If you continue down this path, you will be reborn like a phoenix from the ashes. Make friends with the enemies in your mind, for they are all one of a kind. They are all you. Reclaim your power. Take back your sovereignty.” 

“I love you,” Jessica said to her Shadow. Her Shadow smiled at her, and they embraced again. She turned into white light and rushed into Jessica’s body. The warmth that blossomed before turned into a full-blown fire in her chest. She felt stronger than she had ever felt. 

Jessica woke up. At first, she didn’t remember the dream. There was a bliss about her. Her body felt different. Tears covered her face, and the dream flooded back to her. 

She had done it. The Veiled Woman was gone. No, not quite gone. Jessica could still feel her inside, ready to jump to her defense. 

Jessica turned on the lamp next to her bed and started writing the dream down. Some details were hazy, and she couldn’t remember most of what she said at the end, besides the part about the phoenix. By the end of writing, there were spots of smeared ink from her tears. She wrote the title at the top of the page: The Veiled Woman. 

Jessica skimmed the words on the page. She conquered one of her demons while she slept, but something told her there were many more. As the Veiled Woman had told her, this was only the beginning.

Jessica closed the journal, turned off the light, and rolled over in bed, a smile on her face, eager to dream for the first time in a long time.