When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up Under The Khmer Rouge

Every orphan dreams of one thing—finding a home. When my parents finally found me, I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. But the moment I stepped through their door, I saw her—a girl my age, dressed like a princess, calling them "mom" and "dad." That girl, Cassia, had been living the life that should have been mine. She was their pride and joy, while I was nothing but an outsider. In front of others, she played the perfect sister. Behind closed doors, she made sure I knew my place. I was her shadow, her punching bag. She was my tormentor—my fake sister. I thought my husband could save me from the misery of that home. He was kind, gentle—or so I believed—until he demanded I give up my unborn child, because the only baby he wanted was hers. Betrayed by the two people I trusted most, my world crumbled as I bled alone on an operating table, my life slipping away. But destiny had other plans. I was given another chance—a chance to rewrite my story. This time, I’m ready. I’ll expose Cassia for who she truly is. I’ll protect everything that was stolen from me. I’ll no longer be the weak girl in her shadow. I’ll become my own strength, and Cassia will never have power over me again.

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."

This an autobiography of a man's childhood day, the horror and the dread that he went through, it also comprises of other happenings that made up his childhood day: both sad and happy moments.

Blurb: Crystal isn't really mute—she's just been forced to act that way for years. At her new elite secondary school, life only gets harder. David, the senator's son, won't stop noticing her. And every time he does, Queen, Zeenat, and the newly-returned Keisha make her pay for it. Hated by the girls, cornered by secrets, and weighed down by her stepdad’s control, Crystal can only count on Asher, the troubled boy who sees her as the sister he never had. But how long can she hide the truth? Will she survive the jealousy, the betrayals, and the endless drama? Or will her silence destroy her before her voice is ever heard?

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

10 years ago, my family had been driving through the desert when our car broke down, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere. There had only been one bottle of water left. I had been severely dehydrated, barely clinging to life. Yet, my younger sister, Serena, had cried and said that the desert rose she had planted in a flowerpot was about to wilt. However, my parents didn't even hesitate at her unreasonable demand. They poured every last drop of my water into the pot. "You've got a strong will. You can hold on a little longer!" "This flower is delicate. It might die if we don't water it now!" "We'll take it with us out of the desert. We'll come back to save you once we get help!" Vultures had circled overhead as they scurried off, clutching the pot, completely forgetting about me lying unconscious beneath the dune. Fortunately for me, I was rescued by a geological survey team out of sheer dumb luck. Later, I saw the bestselling book my 'darling' family had written. 'We lost our brave daughter. She left us the last bottle of water so we could get help.' The next time we met was at an auction. They wanted to worm their way into high society, hoping for a lucky break. I linked my arm through the host's arm and looked my biological parents straight in the eye. "We've got very important guests coming today. It would be better to have these beggars thrown out."