What do you think of this extract from my story?

it is the start of chapter two, but the first chapter my protagonist is introduced. - i hope its not confusing.

Fleur Black lay shivering in her cold dark house. It was only just dusk but Lord Hawthorn would be doing his curfew rounds any moment and if anyone got caught out of their tiny homes the punishment would be unimaginable. Stories have been told of those few daring souls that end up getting caught and none what so ever seemed to end well.

It had been exactly a year since Fleur was first imprisoned in Hawthorn Village – a year she would much rather forget and a year in which he only wish was to be normal. Fleur had forgotten what the outside world was like; she missed the country side and the busy city that she used to visit. But most of all fleur missed her family, her father and her brother, Billy.

The house which she slept in was a small wooden box with only a bed and a potty. The bed held only a thin sheet and the walls had major gaps in them, letting in every bit of cold air. It was torture, living in the village, and Fleur needed to get away - somehow.

“Are you in there, girl?” An unfamiliar voice echoed around the room as he knocked on the small wooden door.

“Yes, I am,” Was all Fleur said in reply.

“wait, where is Morpheus, because I know you aren’t him.” Fleur waited for a reply.

“He has important business. Goodbye.” Fleur listened as whoever it was eventually walked away. It was odd that Morpheus wasn’t the one doing the rounds, he usually liked to know that his control was still, just that.

She was lying on her bed, curled up in a tight ball. Her hair, long, silvery blonde and a messy tangle cascaded over the side of the skinny bench. Her skin, if able, would have been blue at this point but it stayed a perfect paper white shade, flawless and smooth. Fleur tried sleeping but her mind was on other things so her grass green eyes stayed open and alert.

She didn’t know why the entire colour drained out of her when she ‘changed’ but it didn’t happen to everyone. Most of the villagers had hair that was all different shades and although hers used to be blonde anyway it seemed to fade slightly. She hated her new life and would do anything to change what had happened on this exact date and time one year before – Even if it meant she weren’t to dream ever again...

Fleur drifted off to sleep then, and the dream of which she dreamt every night came back into her mind. She felt like she was going to freeze but all the while she felt like she was sweating. She felt like her arms and legs were going to drop off. Of course all this was a figment of imagination, Fleur was just remembering the incident a year before. She seemed to writher as the hooded figure came closer. His white hand, the only thing visible reached out and touched Fleur’s skin. Suddenly the sensation of not being able to breathe rose as the man strangled Fleur.

She woke with a start.

what do you think of it?