I Lose 24 Hours Every Birthday

Ever since I turned eighteen, I've fallen into a deep sleep for exactly twenty-four hours on my birthday every year.

My parents told me I had a rare neurological sleep disorder that flared up on a specific date.

I believed them for ten years.

I took medication for ten years, saw doctors for ten years, and underwent tests for ten years.

Every time I woke up, my family would be gathered around my bed, with a half-eaten cake on the table. Mom would say with red-rimmed eyes, "You fell asleep again."

I cried, too, thinking fate was unfair.

But this year, everything changed.

Three days ago, while sorting through my grandmother's belongings, I found an envelope.

Inside was a trust document and a photograph from ten years ago.

The photo showed the scene at my eighteenth birthday party.