"Z is for Zillah who drank too much gin"
There are times when having the children to following in their parents footstep, when is enough is being enough, staying on that thin of being naive youth and shrewd elder. There is has to be a stop warning, of when they, the children follow too deeply when compare to adults. A limit, something to just keeping it in place before things got out of hand.
What would it take to stop a child, like uncertain Zillah to not always do what her parents do, there is a limit. No need for her to risk away years so easily like her parents as that's their choice. Zillah didn't need to wait through the night, sneaking around her own home like a no-good criminal, stealing an item she knows she can't have. Yet, they are adults able to, and she wants to be an adult like them. So why not follow through with them?
Maybe though, if it was once or twice, and never again those slipups could be overlooked; yet that wasn't the case, not this time. After weeks: of just sneaking around, able to mirror adults during the night. While in the day, Zillah is the little angel all see her as. Ready for the world in her own way, in saying that she knows what to do. Though the words of getting drunk and headache troubles never are being said, because that would stop the wondering of adulthood, being cut short; Zillah would never let that happen, never, not while she is so close to understanding of being an adult, with a nice tall glass of gin in hand.
Months go by, so many nights counting away; this little goal of her is never bothered as she drinks on. Having a little party with her dolls, as they are people, mocking words that she heard parents say when they are drunk as skunks. Her giggles muffle as they are from the high end drinking, colorful most of the words are, and being an adult is just a fun game to Zillah.
Though sadly, this thing that Zillah loves to do is not a game. When her giggles later in farther months, turn into groans and whines, she wants to cry and tell her parents if there is a way to stop the ill. Yet, that would mean giving away her secrets she had spend a short time be wasted away. So with not wanting to lose that, she endures the pain, leaving the fact of her adulthood isn't tampered with, as planned.
Sadly though for Zillah what she never thought would happen, as she for a moment only holds the glass of gin in hand, near her chest against the pain that rested deeply under her flesh. Just one more glass, that's all she is thinking, while feeling the glass becoming warm in her hand. She doesn't want warm gin, as it becomes too bitter for her. Zillah must drink it before it comes warm, no matter how it hurts. Painful gin is better than warm gin; her parents said something like that all the time.
So for that, she takes the drink, shooting it back like her father would before going to bed. Which she does next, but to that was her last deed, with an half empty bottle and tilt glass, while a doll knocked down the ground. For her parents to be greeted with: while she slept like the dead, the very peaceful dead.