The funny thing about washing the dishes late at night is that the sound of plates clinging is pushing a memory of reminder that you just commit another major mistake, the same mistake for the third time. As a family with just me and my sister, I was always the disappointment, the black sheep, the bad omen and the worst kid. I know, because that’s what I always felt, that I was to be ashamed of. I think I just needed a time to cry by myself. I don’t know what happened to that little girl who used to look up at the sky and be instantly inspired by the…