Hillbilly Elegy

someone had called that morning
demanding a sample by the end of the
day. Mamaw’s piss was dirtied with a
half dozen prescription drugs, so I was
the only candidate.
Mom’s demand came with a strong
air of entitlement. She had no remorse,
no sense that she was asking me to do
something wrong. Nor was there any
guilt over the fact that she had broken yet
another promise to never use drugs.
I refused. Sensing my resistance,
Mom transitioned. She became
apologetic and desperate. She cried and
begged. “I promise I’ll do better. I
promise.” I had heard it many times
before, and I didn’t believe it even a