<strong>Kelli Morris<br/>Little Havana<br/>parked on a side street</strong><br/><br/>She drives on for a couple more minutes, always working her back towards the parking lot where she left her car. Always making a series of lefts and rights at random streets to elude any that might take up pursuit. She eases the car over to the side up against the curb, quickly taking her hoodie off and pulling her shirt up over her head.  Rolling it up, she hands it to Tom, “this should help with the bleeding”.<br/><br/>She quickly runs her hands over her smooth tan stomach, sides, and then leaning forward to quickly check as much of her back as she can for any signs of catching a bullet or shrapnel. Her simple black bra securely holds her cell phone next to her left breast.  She was 80 percent sure they weren't being followed, but also knew if some goody-goody called the police after hearing the gunfire, police could possibly be flooding the area any minute.<br/><br/>She can feel Goosebumps on her forearms, the beating of her heart against her neck, she takes a long deep breath, letting it out slowly, savoring the sensations of being free. Prison wasn't for her, this is what she savored, this was living.  “Born Free” she whispers to herself, testing the sound of it. Maybe a new tattoo or decal.  A smile coming to her lips as she puts her jacket back on. Almost wishing to hear sirens in the distance so she could run; this car wouldn't do, a real car.  Pressing the accelerator down, the car takes off towards the parking lot.  “We need to ditch this heap”<br/>