Every time I begin a new project, unlike many screenwriters, my problem is not how to start that first page, but rather, when to stop researching a story. For someone who grew up in communist Poland, reading was the only way to take virtual trips, since travel outside the communist block was almost impossible. But when I immigrated to America and became a writer, I realized that all this free access to any publication imaginable could be quite dangerous — I became a research junkie.

Embarking on "Human Trafficking" presented a big challenge in every respect. Particularly once I began to research it. Despite the fact that I read two major newspapers and listen to NPR on the daily basis, I couldn't believe how little I knew about this criminal trade, which apparently has been going on for over a decade in this country. However, it has only recently developed into a multi-billion dollar business — third most profitable after guns and drug trafficking — because violent criminal organizations have cranked up their efforts to supply a growing public demand. The statistics are staggering — twenty thousand women and girls enslaved in the United States at any given moment; 800,000 people trafficked annually across international borders. How is this possible in this day and age? Armed with my knowledge, I started talking to my friends — and strangers — and quickly realized they were as ignorant. Moreover, they were often unaware that those girls are actually forced into prostitution.

Lifetime Television launched "Human Trafficking" because they wanted to change this misconception and seek public support for this fast growing problem. Thanks to the longer format and the network's uncompromising approach, our miniseries presented a unique opportunity to tell as comprehensive and realistic a story as possible. But we were also aware of how sensitive and difficult it would be to deal with this topic for us, the filmmakers, as well as for the audience. Still, the risk was worth taking.

As a feature writer, I tend to gravitate toward finding stories that involve complex and strong women. I wrote a fair share of them, from Lady Macbeth in the African version of Shakespeare's tragedy adapted for director Agnieszka Holland, to Ayn Rand's rebellious heroine in "We the Living", and Seren, from a heartbreaking Holocaust story "Seamstress", based on a memoir of a survivor of Ravensbrueck, a concentration camp for women.

Since those stories always seem to find me, I wasn't surprised when Christian Duguay, the director of "Human Trafficking", introduced me to the project. We worked successfully together before and the comfort of our mutual trust proved to be a saving grace for both of us during this bleak journey. The question that hung over our shoulders the entire time was how do you tell this kind of story, truthfully and realistically, without making it too painful and relentless for the audience? We just hoped that our main characters and their efforts would be engaging enough to keep the viewers emotionally invested despite some difficult moments they would also have to endure.

Since this was my first TV project, I quickly realized that the deadlines were very real and time was indeed of the essence. I started to work on the story while still researching. I combed through a thick pile of articles, read every available official report, watched every documentary, and talked to as many sources as possible. I quickly became overwhelmed by the bleakness of the testimonies, the sense of despair conveyed by the victims, and often their inability to adjust to normal life once they were freed. The deeper I dug, the more responsible I felt for not being able to include every tiny detail, for not having enough time to tell it all.

Some of my diligence stemmed from the fact that I came from the same part of the world as the two heroines of our story. I could relate to them and their longings. Even though they already grew up in the post-communist era, the myth of the West and the desire for a better life is stronger in those countries than ever. Ironically, the newly acquired capitalist system deepened the poverty, while freedom to travel opened possibilities to go abroad in search of better-paid jobs. A maid at a London hotel earns in one month the same amount as a maid in Russia, Ukraine or Romania would earn in eight months. The criminals, who promise these eager women various dream jobs, know just how much they want to change their lives. Regretfully, I could only focus on a few characters, who are from Eastern Europe and Philippines, but many girls are also smuggled into our country from Africa, Mexico and Asia and for the same reasons - war, economic depravation, the desire for a better life. That's why it is so easy to abduct those women and
quite hard for the authorities to track their perpetrators.

To show this investigative process, the other main subplot of our story follows a rookie Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agent, played by Mira Sorvino. Since our objective was to make the movie as reality-based as possible, we were thrilled that ICE came on board with their support and agreed to assist us with their expertise. During several conversations I had with the two agents, who served as our consultants, I had to clarify a puzzling aspect of this illegal trade - why do most abductions go unreported? I found a testimony of a young victim, who was convinced the world out there was much scarier than the dark basement she was enslaved in for three years. A few others also confirmed that despite everything they were subjected to, they wouldn't even attempt to put their traffickers behind bars. Talking to the agents made me realize that the victims' fear is usually two-fold. First, they are afraid to run away and testify because their perpetrators have all their personal information and threaten them with retribution against their families. Second, most of the victims grew up on horror stories of the Gulag, KGB, or crooked cops. That's who the police are to them here as well. By the time they've been smuggled into this country, they are demoralized and indoctrinated. It's the traffickers' modus operandi to break the spirit, before breaking the body. That way, they have a more compliant worker.

The finished two-part miniseries was almost forty-five minutes longer than the required length of the final product. We had to face the agony of what to cut, not only from the artistic point of view, but mainly because we wanted to share all of it with the audience. Now we can only hope that the great cast and the important subject matter will attract enough viewers for the film to make a difference. All we want is for people to understand that modern-day slavery doesn't exist in another world, or another time. It is very much a part of our world and it is happening now. And, as Mira Sorvino's character says in her closing speech: "...it exists only because we choose to ignore it. But like cancer left untreated, it keeps growing, so we need to recognize it and deal with it..." And for that, we need a consolidated effort.