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What do you think of my story? (the first part of chapter)?

Tuesday, April 20th, 2010 at 7:05 am

Its the first part of chapter two BUT its the first chapter with my main character in it - please leave comments etc (oh and it is not really edited, so sorry in advance) -THANKS in advance too.

The cold dark room, which was meant as a home, was icy-cold. It only contained a hard, holey mattress and a metal potty that was far too frigid to sit on. The sun had only just gone down though, the sky had not yet been filled with diamond stars and the Village leader, Morpheus Hawthorn had only just started his rounds, making sure everyone was obeying the curfew.
Fleur Black lay shivering on the mattress; a thin scratchy overlay was tangled among her limbs doing the best job it could. She was used to the freezing climate, the sort that was to dry for snow and too wet for frost.The night had moved in quickly but Fleur wasn’t tired, she never was.
Fleur had been imprisoned in Hawthorn Village for exactly a year today. She couldn’t believe she had put up with the small box of a house for that long. She didn’t realize a place like this had existed, she wouldn’t have believed it but now she knew, and she wanted out.
There were footsteps outside and then a knock on the door. Fleur had been waiting for this, it was routine. The nightly rounds of Morpheus Hawthorn became like second nature and it would be like that, forever.
“Are you in there?” said a voice, but one Fleur could not recognize. She was so used to the harsh grumble of Morpheus that this time, when a softer, calmer man spoke she got a surprise.
“Yes, Fleur Black and no one else is in this room,” Fleur said, in a bored tone before quickly adding, “But who are you?”
“None-ya business, now sleep!” Even though Fleur was not tired only seconds before, at these words her eye lids became heavy and she was the prey of her nightmares once again.
The forest was claustrophobic, closing in at every angle. She was trying to run but the bush became intertwined with her bare feet – tripping her. She turned, the hooded figure was now too close, all she could do was wait. The cloak seemed to devour whoever it was inside and only a thin, white hand was visible. Her limbs her ceasing, she was sweating yet chills ran through her body. The hand ran down her cheek and grabbed her neck. Fleur could breathe no more.
Fleur woke with a start. The dream which she had every night left visions in her mind. It was morning, luckily, and the light yellow sunlight was streaming through the many cracks of the wooden house. There was nothing Fleur wanted more than to rid herself from the horrible nightmare, the one that landed her in Hawthorn Village in the first place. She had tried many things, resorting to asking the old ‘wise ones’ of the village was her last attempt, but they too were stuck with a nightmare. She thought that maybe this whole thing was a dream and that she would wake up in her bed, in her home with her family - but that was wishful thinking, Fleur was stuck and that’s why she wanted to run away.
Before starting her daily work fleur tried neatening her long, silvery blonde tangle of hair by forking her fingers through roughly. Her skin was paper white and flawless, making her grass green eyes stand out immensely.