Nina was never what other people considered to be normal. She was, actually, quite the opposite. People around her used to shake their heads in disbelief over the stuff she did, some would even call her crazy. She knew better, she was not crazy, she only took what life offered, made the most out of it, she didn't follow the pre-established rules.
The day she decided she would be going to tour the world, alone, without money and on her feet, everyone thought she was crazy. As usual, Nina, paid no heed. Not even her mother worried about how would she be able to survive, what would she do if she got ill, how would she keep in touch with the family and friends. Nina only told her that she would cross those bridges when she faced them, instead of worrying about it beforehand.
The day she left, she didn't say anything to anyone. Nina knew that they would try to convince her, once more, to stay. And she was tired of having to battle over every decision she took. Just because they were afraid of living their own lives, it didn't mean she couldn't live hers. So she took her backpacj and hit the road.
When Nina finally decided to go back home it had been years. She had wandered the world, met new people, made new friends, and understood that there was more people like her, people who wouldn't fit anywhere because they didn't share the ways with their own. Her hometown was changed, but it also felt as if it all remained the same. No one on the street seemed to recognize her, her skin was tanned after so many hours in the open, her light brown hair cropped short so it didn't need much care, her hands rough. The only thing that had stayed from the girl who left town were her eyes, and her smile.
Her mother couldn't believe it. Her daughter, the one who had left so long ago, was back. She cried like a child in Nina's arms. As soon as she calmed down, Nina told her about everything she had lived. Her mother stayed silent for a second, and measuring her words she said:
-Maybe, we were the crazy ones.
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