It's a simple story. Boy meets girl. They fall in love. They tell each other everything, they build a life. It all starts out so beautiful.
She begins to prosper at work. Of course she does; she's incredible. She rises the ranks, and next thing you know, she's having dinner with powerful people, getting connections in local government, and she's playing golf with the chief of police.
Slowly, something changes. Fewer little affections, little kisses, loving embraces. Just knowing they love each other is not enough anymore. A conversation becomes a fight, and words become actions.
The first time she hits him, he reacts and she immediately apologizes. Things are suddenly better, and they promise to work things out.
But what happens when they don't work things out? And what happens if you can't go to the police, because the police are her friends?
Who do you turn to when there's no escape? How do you get out?
There are thousands of people out there right now who can't go to the police or to social services because their abuser is too well connected. They could work for the police, they could be military, they could simply be famous. But for those in need, there is always an escape.
My name is Grayson. Since I was 17, I've worked for an organization that reaches out to help victims who can't get help anywhere else. Domestic violence, sex trafficking, human slavery, organ harvesting, dog fighting, we exist to find those in need, and to find a way to make it better.
We call ourselves Shelter. You can just call us friends.
But who am I? Well that's a good question.