PONY PLANET -- I sat, crouched, on my doorstep. A molotov cocktail my mother assembled on my left, and a rifle on my right. Across from me my grandmother did the same, we lay in wait, ready to defend the house from the ponies. A few miles in front of us the clouds occasionally lit up followed by a thundering boom. Each flash of light took me back to my friends house on the lake, watching fireworks. Which was well enough, as that is what we told my little brothers and sisters. Behind me and my grandmother, in the house my parents were trying to put the smallest ones to bed. They protested something feirce, believing they were missing out on the most epic multi-day fireworks display.
It was on this day that the 'reinforcements' marched into town. The entire group of rag tag volunteers walked right past our gardens. Without saying a word, my grandmother rose - clutching her rifle and molotov - and joined the convoy. I cast a glance back at my parents. My father's expression distant with a silent tear he tried to hide. My mother however looked at me sternly, and with a steely determination gave a solemn nod. I joined the convoy. This group of soldiers was not the Grand Army Of the Horses. It was instead the results of our president's famous 12-day march. On this day, Choclate concluded a heroic march from Eastern Pony Island all the way to the western front.
Her path took her through every major city. She did not stop to eat, sleep or speak for twelve days. The entire almost two week march, she did not say a word. Somehow, we all knew what the sight of our president on the streets meant. Some 45,000 volunteers, civillians, teachers, store owners, doctors and veterans joined behind her to reinforce the Grand Army Of the Horses in the Pony Planet Civil War.
On their approach, the soldiers of the Army of the Ponies described the sound of 45,000 hoofbeats striking the ground in sync, "It was as if some terrible new machine was lumbering towards us. The reality, though, was much worse." The next 45 days of my life became some of the darkest. Indeed I was terrified to face the threat in front of me. I was scared to kill - I had never done it before. Yet, nothing quite scared me like looking behind myself did. From where I was dug in on the front line, I could see the light from my little brother's bedroom.