I'm on track to be a top student, but I end up taking the SAT twice. The first time, I score high enough to get into Westbridge University. The second time, my score qualifies me for Northfield University.

Each time, I score over 1500. Yet when the admissions teams see my name, not a single school admits me.

At first, I think it must be some kind of background check, certain they've found something in my record.

But my parents are honest, hardworking people. They've never broken the law. They wouldn't even harm a fly.

So I try a third time. My SAT score is 1590, and my GPA is still perfect. This time, I apply to Crestwood University, thinking I finally have it in the bag.

The Crestwood University admissions officer arrives full of cheer, but the moment he sees my name, he freezes, immediately realizing there is no way I will be accepted.

I rack my brain, trying to figure out what is wrong with my name. Why does seeing it make every school hesitate, even though my scores are perfect?

"Chloe Chesson, we know you're the top student this year, but we can't admit you to Crestwood University. No school would take a student like you."

The admissions officer from Crestwood University checked my information right in front of me, then finally shook his head.

All my excitement drained away, and I felt completely helpless.

I had to know why. My voice shook as I asked, "Why can't you admit me? I'm the top student! What's the problem?"

The officer just gave me a cold, fleeting glance. "No school would ever take a student like you."

I tried to make sense of his words, but no matter how hard I thought, I couldn't understand them.

Crushed, I collapsed to the floor. Trembling, I covered my head and cried uncontrollably.

My mind was filled with questions. Why, after topping the SAT three times, would no school accept me?

The first time I took the SAT, I scored 1570. I applied to Westbridge University, confident I would get in.

I waited anxiously for the acceptance letter, only to receive a rejection. I refused to believe it and called the admissions office.

But the moment the official heard my name, they didn't even bother checking further and replied matter-of-factly, "We won't accept you."

After a year of preparation, I retook the SAT and scored 1580. This time, I applied to Northfield University.

I assumed there was no way I could be rejected again.

But the result was the same. I was denied once more.

When I called the admissions office to ask for an explanation, the response was exactly like before. The moment they heard my name, they wouldn't even consider me.

I couldn't understand it. My scores improved every time. Why wouldn't Westbridge University or Northfield University admit me?

At first, I thought there might be an issue with my background check. I even looked into my parents' records.

But everything came back clean. Three generations of my family had no criminal history.

Besides, my parents were honest, hardworking factory workers who wouldn't hurt a soul.

I couldn't find the reason, but I refused to give up. So I took the SAT a third time.

This time, I scored 1590, once again becoming the top student.

Remembering my past experiences, I didn't apply to Westbridge University or Northfield University. Instead, I chose Crestwood University.

With that score, I should have been a shoo-in.

When the Crestwood University admissions officer called me in for an interview, I was confident. I thought, "This is it. Finally, I'll get in."

But then he dropped the bomb.

The moment he saw my name, he froze. Then he said without hesitation, "Crestwood University can't admit you."

Once again, I was rejected.

After failing three times, I felt utterly hopeless.

My parents watched me sob uncontrollably, and tears welled up in their own eyes.

"How can this be? My daughter is the top student! How could she not get in?"

Even they couldn't believe it.

My mother's eyes were bloodshot as she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of the Crestwood University admissions officer.

She trembled as she begged, "Please, sir, I'm begging you! Let my daughter go to university. We'll figure out the money—whatever it takes!"

The admissions officer didn't even flinch.

My mother threw herself to the floor, scraping her forehead, and grabbed his pant leg.

Her cries choked her words as she sobbed, "Please, sir, she can't miss this chance. My husband and I have worked ourselves to the bone, and our greatest wish is to give our daughter a better life. Don't let her suffer like we did. Please have mercy!"

My father dropped to his knees as well.

His back was bent with age and labor. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and offered one to the admissions officer with trembling hands.

"Sir, I may not be educated, but my daughter is the top student. She has to go to university! If she doesn't, her whole future will be ruined. Please, I'm begging you to help us."

To support my education, my father had always smoked the cheapest cigarettes he could find.

Seeing my parents, who had never lowered themselves before anyone, humiliate themselves like this for me made my chest ache. They were just factory workers, but no matter how hard life had been, they had never been humiliated like this.

They said a man's children were his treasure, and here was my father on his knees, pleading for my future. It was all for nothing.

The admissions officer didn't soften in the slightest. He repeated coldly, "You're wasting your time. We're not accepting Chloe."

My father thought it was because he hadn't shown enough sincerity. He grabbed the man's sleeve, begged, and even pressed his forehead to the floor in desperation.

Still, the admissions officer wouldn't budge. "Enough with these theatrics. It won't work. No matter what you do, we won't take a student like Chloe."

His tone left no room for negotiation.

No matter how desperately my parents begged, he didn't respond.

After the admissions officer left, Crestwood University rejected my application.

I was stunned. I racked my brain, trying to find the reason.

What did they mean by "a student like me"? Had I done something wrong?

But in my memory, I had no blemishes. I had always been an exemplary student—the kind other parents pointed to as a model child.

Seeing my despair, my parents gathered around me.

My father patted my head.

"Chloe, it's okay. If this school won't take you, we'll pick another. There are plenty of universities out there. One of them will want you."

My mother dabbed at my tears. "You're a top student. No matter what, we'll make sure you get into a school. We won't give up on you."

After three rejections, my parents had visibly aged.

The first time I didn't get in, they paid for a year of tutoring. They told me not to worry and said they'd always be behind me.

The second time, they hired a private tutor, working multiple jobs to cover the costs.

They had always given me everything without expecting anything in return. Everything I achieved on the SAT was because of their sacrifices. And yet, even after all that effort, my third attempt didn't go as planned.

At that moment, I felt overwhelming guilt toward them.

I looked at their aged faces and calloused hands and whispered through tears, "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I've disappointed you again. I'm just a burden, holding you back."

Of course, they didn't blame me. They just told me not to overthink it.

That night, I lay in bed, restless, turning everything over in my mind.

Crestwood University had rejected me, so now I could only hope my next choice would accept me.

The first two times I'd taken the SAT, I'd been confident enough to apply only to top schools, so I hadn't listed any others—and both had rejected me.

This time, I was cautious.

Even though my score would have easily gotten me into Crestwood University, I applied to other decent schools just in case. I even listed some safety schools, afraid that if the top schools rejected me again, I'd have nothing.

If the top-tier schools didn't want me, maybe a mid-tier one would. After all, I was still the top student.

And finally, hope arrived.

When the mid-tier university began admitting students, my name appeared on the preliminary acceptance list. They had heard about me—the top scorer with a 1590 SAT—and the next day, a delegation came to my house with banners and fanfare to welcome me.

My parents and I looked at the crowd at the door, and for the first time in weeks, smiles returned to our faces.

The school officials hurried to greet my parents warmly.

"It's an honor to have the state's top student choose our school! You two raised a remarkable child. You can rest assured. Chloe will be treated like someone very special here."

My parents' eyes lit up. My mother held my hand tightly, saying I had finally come out of hardship. My father straightened his back with pride.

Everyone was in high spirits.

The lead administrator presented the pre-prepared acceptance letter and asked to take a photo with us.

With a smile, he opened the envelope. "Chloe, after review, you are accepted to—"

And then he froze mid-sentence.

The administrator stared at the acceptance letter, frozen. Two minutes later, he looked up at me and asked, "Chloe Chesson? Is that your full name?"

A chill ran down my spine. I had a bad feeling about this.

Before I could answer, my parents spoke up.

The administrator staggered slightly at their response. He motioned for the people outside to quiet down, and the hall went completely silent.

Seeing this, my parents grew worried. They turned toward me, but I didn't look back.

My eyes were locked on him as he said coldly, "I'm sorry. Our school can't accept you. I'll have to report this to admissions and have your acceptance rescinded."

My head started buzzing. Dizziness washed over me, and I nearly lost my balance.

Thankfully, my parents caught me in time.

I looked straight at the administrator and asked, slowly and clearly, "I want a clear explanation. Your school already accepted me. You can't just take back my offer without an explanation."

My hands clenched tightly, nails digging into my palms.

I swore to myself that no matter what, I would get to the bottom of this today.

My parents joined in.

My father said, "Exactly! You've admitted her. You can't just take it back! This isn't fair!"

My mother added, "We may not be educated people, but you can't treat us this way. We deserve an explanation!"

The neighbors who had gathered nearby began whispering among themselves.

The news that I was the state's top student—yet still rejected—had already spread throughout our small town.

People muttered indignantly, convinced I must have offended someone powerful. Otherwise, with my scores, every university should have been fighting to recruit me.

Faced with our questions, the administrator offered no explanation, only repeating that someone like me would never get into any school.

I kept pressing him, but I got nothing.

After he left, my family became the target of everyone's stares and gossip.

"Chloe must be cursed or something. Three years of trying, and no school will take her? What a waste of money!"

"She might as well just give up and start working. Either way, she'll end up getting married anyway."

"Exactly. Maybe working will at least make up for the money the family wasted!"

The comments came one after another. My parents were so furious that they nearly got into a fight.

My mother grabbed a broom to chase them off. "Get out of here, you nosy hags! Don't stand in our way!"

My father's face hardened as he defended me. "I'll do whatever it takes to support my daughter!"

Seeing they wouldn't get any entertainment out of us, the neighbors cursed under their breath and finally left.

I stared at the rescinded acceptance letter, completely baffled.

What was wrong with my name? Why did schools back off as soon as they saw it?

I couldn't figure it out, and I clawed at my hair in frustration.

Seeing me crouched on the ground, eyes bloodshot, my parents were heartbroken and frantic.

My father smoked quietly, defeated. My mother, afraid I might hurt myself, kept trying to calm me down.

But all I could think about were the endless rejections.

Had my parents worked themselves to the bone for me, and had I spent nine years pushing myself, only for it all to come to nothing?

Suddenly, a thought struck me. "Mom, Dad, I still have one last chance. The community college results come out in a week. Maybe I'll get in there."

At that, my parents finally let out a breath they'd been holding.

Community colleges were known to accept almost anyone. Even students with the lowest scores got in. There was no way someone with a 1590 SAT like me wouldn't.

We pinned all our hopes on this final chance.

After all, my grades were strong. Even if I started at a community college, I could always transfer later.

We waited an anxious week as a family. Thankfully, the acceptance letter finally arrived. My parents and I stared at it, then hugged each other, crying with relief.

Early the next morning, my father went out and picked up food to celebrate. My mother bought me two new outfits, saying I couldn't show up to college looking shabby.

That night, the three of us sat down together for a celebratory meal.

"Mom, Dad, once I start working, I'll buy a house and bring you both to live with me. I promise you'll have a good life!"

Their smiles were radiant.

"All we ever wanted was for you to be safe and not suffer like we did."

"I believe our daughter will make something of herself."

But I never expected the community college principal to show up at our door.

The first thing he said was, "May I see your acceptance letter?"

Remembering what had happened before, my face went pale, and my legs nearly gave out.

Instinctively, I tried to hide the letter on the table, but he was faster. The moment he opened it, I started to cry.

As expected, when he saw the name Chloe Chesson, his expression darkened. Right in front of us, he took the letter back.

"Chloe, I'm sorry, but we're withdrawing your admission. You cannot attend our school."

I couldn't understand. Why was it happening again?

After he left, I collapsed and shut myself in my room.

"Chloe Chesson… Chloe Chesson…"

I whispered my name over and over, like I'd gone mad, turning my room upside down searching for my ID.

I needed to see it. I needed to know what kind of curse my name carried.

When I finally found my ID and saw my name printed on it, everything clicked.