Some some of a story I've started writing. It's not perfect. Any suggestions/tips?

I sat in my dark cell and contemplated the events of the last day. I had got a lot done. Well... l suppose you could call it "done", but it wasn't REALLY. First, I managed to sneak out of the poor camp. You can imagine, I was pretty pleased with myself. After all, ain't nobody did that yet. Then I disguised myself as a maid an' walked into Darkhall castle pretty as you please, whistling. Didn' even glance at me. I followed another maid to the kitchen, and told the head cook I was new. She scanned my tangled knot of black hair, crumpled cap, apron streaked with gray dirt, and ripped dress. Then she said "Get potatoes." Obviously, she was a women of few words. I liked her. Too bad I had to disobey her. I went out a side door and found myself in an herb garden. A path branched off to the right, so I followed it. There, ta-da, poof, was the potato patch. I grabbed a shovel from a small tool shed and set to work. It was pretty hard with my muscles, puny from nutrition deficiency. In the poor camp, all they feed us is bland chicken broth from a can with maybe a few pieces of barley floating in it. If you're lucky. But I'd rather not talk about that. It stinks. Literally. So I set to work, and soon I had a little pile of potatoes growing by my side. When I had enough to fill my apron, I scooped them up and set off. But not towards the kitchen. Towards the front gate. It took forevers to get there. I mean, Darkhall Castle is giant. HUGE. Too bad King Havac, or "The Evil Weevil King", as dubbed by my friend Moriya, lives there. He's the one who stuck us in a poor camp and stuck everyone else in his stupid old dungeon. Should I say, dungeonS  Supposedly, they stretch on for miles. I was probably standing over some weeping prisoners' cell. 

***

Actually, I was standing over three prisoners plotting the biggest, most daring plot of escape. They just needed one more person to set it in motion. Preferably someone very skinny. They would soon get their somebody.

***

Well, they caught me. The guards, I mean. I guess people aren't allowed to take goods outta the castle grounds unless it's approved by the king. I was taken to the

courthouse to be tried. I wasn't very worried, I mean, I only stole, like, seven potatoes. I guess seven is the magic number, though, 'cause I was sent to prison for fifty years. Nope. Not fifteen, fifty. I know what you're thinking. "Fifty? That's waaaay overkill!" Yup. Totally. By the time I get out, I'll be sixty-four. SIXTY-FOUR! That's old! I don't  wanna be that old. I'll probably have arthritis! But that's King Havac for you. Anywayzers, they stuck me in some damp cell in the petty crimes section. I was so mad, I punched the cement wall a few times. Stupid idea. Now my knuckles are crusty and bleeding. They hurt. A lot. And they have to be bandaged by some stupid guard named Skapa. All he does is complain about EVERYTHING in his life. It was so annoying that I punched him. He was so surprised, that he fell backwards onto the floor. The cement floor. Yup! He got knocked out. That night, some other stupid guard escorted me to the "Dangerous Individuals" section. She told me I'd better feel bad about what I had done. I told her I didn't care. She told me she didn't care either. She also yelled shut up and shoved me into an empty cell. The door banged shut, and she was gone. I waited until her sharp military footsteps faded around the corner, and I let out the sigh I had been keeping in. I turned around to scan my surroundings. There was a hard-looking slab of wood in one corner, obviously supposed to be my bed, a hole in the ground hidden by a short cement wall, meant to relieve my waste into, and a large iron ring embedded in the wall. I was probably supposed to be shackled to it, but I guess the guard left in such a hurry she forgot. Maybe she's friends with Skapa or something. Who cares. I sat down on the wooden slab. It was very hard. My barrier of defiance was broken, and I started sobbing. Oh, if only I had gotten to say goodbye to Momo and Paps, my dear parents, and Ellie, my little sister. And Moriya! My best friend in the entire world! She hadn't been home when I had gone over to her tree. Moriya is the same age as me, 14, but she doesn't have any relatives. She snuck into the poor camp on the pretext of visiting her cousin, and never left. That was two years ago. I can't believe we've been living with that awful monster over our heads for TWO YEARS. Ellie's grown up with him as King. He's destroying her childhood, just like he is with so many other young children like her. She's only six! I don't know how long I cried for, but I guess I fell asleep. Cause the next thing I knew, I was waking up.