This article complements the following report: Abused children: those relatives who dare to break the silence
It was three years ago.
Gwendoline, 35 today and a clothing saleswoman, worked from home in a “
very very badly insulated
” building not far from Tarbes where she lives today.
On weekdays, life flowed quietly.
Saturday was a day of shouting at the neighbors.
The mother, “
a chubby lady, very discreet
”, went to work, leaving the father “
the typical rugby player, with a big beard, the big mouth type
” to take care of their two boys aged 8 and 4 years old.
“
I heard him insulting them.
Say “I'm going to smoke you you fucking bastard” “Shut up, you're only a child
so you're shit!
I'm going to screw you up!”
There followed knocks on the walls, gasps.
One day Gwendoline decided to call 119. “
I wanted to know if it was considered abuse or simply bad education.
" At the end of…
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