When advancing through enemy territory, one had to keep absolute silence.

It seemed like a simple truth, but once you were actually dumped in the middle of the enemy territory, it became a truth of absolutely nightmarish proportions. People could die every day just because of coughing at the wrong moment. A shot in the dark and a nice epitaph – “here lies dear Johnny, died of hay fever and lead poisoning”. 

The “nightmare” part was suite fitting, in fact – it was dead of the night and Susan just heard a creaking noise. 

Her whole body froze immediately. She didn't dare to breathe and if there was a way to stop her heart from beating, she'd gladly do that. She wanted to look around, but she was pretty sure her eyeballs would make way too much noise. Her muscles tensed; they slowly relaxed as no new noises followed, but she kept standing still. 

For a long while, nothing happened. This was definitely the worst; Susan would much prefer bright flashes of light, a cacophony of noises, anything but standing in the pitch black, trying to catch the faintest echo of the noise that could as well be a figment of her imagination, running wild due to lack of stimuli. 

Finally, she got herself together and slowly raised her foot. No landmine went off, nothing creaked, clicked, clacked, or clinged. Breathing a sigh of relief, Susan moved forward. Yet again, enemy territory showed its mercy. She took a few careful, well-timed steps, listening to even tiniest change in the airflow. Her target was in close, she was pretty sure of that. In fact, it could even be in sight, if Susan was suddenly granted the ability to see in the dark.

She cursed under her breath. Not taking her night vision goggles was a mistake. It’s not like she forgot about them – it was simply the fact that any electronic device left within her reach would soon end up being lost, dropped into water, smashed beyond repair, or ran over by a car. The night vision goggles were no exception and the replacement still didn’t come, much to Susan’s dismay.

Goggles or not, duty still called. Moving along the wall, Susan inched closer to her target. As far as she recalled, this place was usually littered with deadly traps. That was why she went barefoot; not only it wasn’t as loud, she could also sense objects with her feet before standing on them and triggering a cascade of noises waking up everyone within a mile radius.

Well, in most cases.

With catlike tread, she rushed forward, eager to get to the target in one leap. However, before she managed to see it, her left foot hit something, exploding in pain.

“Aww, shit!” Susan howled, jumping on one leg and looking around. So much for stealth. She turned, ready to face the incoming army.

Nothing like that happened. Susan just thought that the guards must have been crazy, when she heard the click of a light switch and frantic footsteps.

“Susan, what the hell?” Amy, Susan’s roommate asked, turning on the kitchen light. She looked at Susan, who stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt of some band she’d probably stopped listening at least ten years ago. 

“I stubbed my toe,” Susan muttered, blushing. She groaned, resting her foot on one of the chairs and rubbing the toe in question. “Why do they always hurt so much?”

Amy crossed her arms. “You were going to raid the fridge again, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” Susan smiled sheepishly. 

“What about your diet?” Amy asked. “Not to mention that you always seem to steal my food. If you really like peanut butter and onion sandwiches that much, buy the goddamn peanut butter yourself!”

“Diet-schmiet,” Susan muttered. “I can always start tomorrow.” She looked at the clock. “Damn. It’s already tomorrow.”

“It is.” Amy smirked. “Also, tomorrow–“

“Today.”

“[i]Today[/i] I’m gonna get some Lego bricks and put them on the floor,” Amy said. “Speaking of, congratulations on the creaky floorboard. I almost didn’t hear it.”

“Thanks,” Susan said. “I also avoided the upturned plug, you know.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Just go back to sleep…”

“Okay, okay.” Susan walked out of the kitchen, limping slightly. “And if I want some peanut butter, I’ll eat peanut butter, whether you like it or not!”

Amy groaned. “Oh, come on!”