Black Plagued Dreams

Wrote this for English junior year of high school

Flames reaching into my dreams.
They grasp my shoulder,
And pull me from the bed.
I scream in pain and panic.

No one hears me,
Everyone's asleep.
Safe.
Sound.
Not me.
I'm screaming.

I open my eyes.
A clammy hand is around around my shoulder,
The flames of hell flying high.
I raise my hand to ask to be let free.
All I see are two black eye sockets
The figure has drawn a black robe around himself.
On his face,
A beak-nosed mask,
The tip brushes my cheek.
I try not to scream.
A hand claps over my mouth,
And I am thrown back through time.

The stench is terrible.
I am lost.
I don't know where I am.
Then, I realized it was all a bad dream.
My brother sits beside me.
"Do you not understand the meaning of
'Your sister has had the Black Death'? Go home!"
 The matron is furious.

In a blur everything comes rushing back.
It was just a dream.
I'm not in hell.
I had the Black Death.
I escaped the terrible death that once awaited me,
One of the few people in Venice to do so.

Flames blur all memories,
Every dream I had forced the
Flaming fires of hell
To be burnt into my memory.
Forever.
The flaming fires of hell
Will burn in my memory.
Forever.