At 92, she's still haunted by Khmer Rouge atrocities in Cambodia
Sath Om has harrowing stories of life during the brutal reign of the Khmer Rouge between 1975 and 1979 when upward of 2 million Cambodians died from malnutrition, disease and murder in the country's notorious Killing Fields.
"It's still real," the 92-year-old survivor of the Cambodian genocide says through translation as the tears flow. "It's like a stick in your eyes when it's remembered."
This article is part of a six-part series that looks at the effects of PTSD on members of the Cambodian community:
Part 2: PTSD from Cambodia's Killing fields affects kids who were never there
Part 3: At 92, she's still haunted by Khmer Rouge atrocities in Cambodia
Part 4: SAM KEO: Soul-searching helps win battle in mind
Part 5: ROTH PRUM: Genocide's horrors still haunt dreams
Part 6: ARUN VA: Narrow escape from becoming a killer
LONG BEACH -- The face of Sath Om reveals even more than her chilling words. The pain seems so immediate and real, it is as if time has stopped.
"It's still real," the 92-year-old survivor of the Cambodian genocide says through translation as the tears flow. "It's like a stick in your eyes when it's remembered."
Om has harrowing stories of life during the brutal reign of the Khmer Rouge between 1975 and 1979 when upward of 2 million Cambodians died from malnutrition, disease and murder in the country's notorious Killing Fields.
Om was burned out of her house and had to run for her life.
She was imprisoned for a time.
She was clubbed on the head, stripped and left for dead in one of the many killing fields strewn across the Cambodian countryside.
Her four children were taken from her and she never saw them again.
Her husband was led away. Although she was told they would be reunited, it never happened.
"I had no hope," she says.
She is the lone survivor. But each night she says they come to her: the spirits of her family asking for her help asking for justice.
As Om tells her story, she covers her eyes and ears, describing the visions and sounds of the souls of her husband, children, parents and siblings.
At other times, Om dreams she is again being taken away to be killed.
In those times of cold dreads, she's not even sure where the dreams and sleep end and the waking memories begin.
These days, Om tries to fill her days with activities and companionship to ward off the ghosts and keep her mind occupied.
She says chanting and prayer sometimes carry her away from the pain.
She regularly attends lunches and events put on by the Asian Pacific Islanders Older Adult Task Force. In Long Beach those are attended almost exclusively by Cambodian refugees who have similar experiences.
"Sometimes I forget once in a while," Om says.
"This helps a bit," she says looking around at the lunch crowd of elderly Cambodians gathering for the noon meal.
As painful as it is to retell her story, Om says it helps and she hopes it will resonate with generations to come.
And when the spirits come at night as she knows they will, at least say she's doing what she can "to find justice for their souls."