Prompt: Kaleidoscope Tables

The Backyard

There's a glass table in the backyard. It stands on two conjoined legs; one dug deep in the mud, the other scooped inward from the fire burning next to it. Sitting on the porch stoop, I take a cigarette from my pack and walk next to the fire pit to light it. The flame lasts a little longer than I anticipated, and I turn to spark the citronella candle. The cigarette burns quickly. I pitch it in the pit. 

I begin to pull another one from my pack. Renewing myself by going in the house to find a lighter from the kitchen counter. I come back to the stoop. I look near the table to make sure the candle hasn't gone out -- and it has. 

I stumble down the steps, glaring closely at the subtle purple tint coming from the table's glass. It's staggering through the citronella. The closer I get, the more it shifts to the fire. The candle had fallen to the ground when I reached the wick. It gooped in the mud. The glass reflects a neon pink and kalediscopes to white. It weaves in and out of shimmery colors. I am mesmerized. 

My foot becomes hot as I am fixated on the table. I wiggle it around to ease the heat. I find myself with hands edged around the glass. My face is planted inside. It feels slimy as I slide my neck further and further into it. Then there is darkness. A heavy energy pulled me and I try to resist, pressing my palms flat on the table to ridge out. 

The glass *shings* and shards begin to pierce me. I attempt to scream, nothing but a mumble. No one can hear me. There is a field of laughing around me, it seems as if it is coming from inside of the shards. I batter my eyes and believe that I have lost sight. My cheeks begin to jar. It feels like something is poking at me. I am pulled further into the table. I start to lose breath and can feel my nose bleeding from the pressure. 

The slime wraps onto my hands like a chain, wrapping me to the table. I can not move. The sensation from my becomes more apparent. The heat has worsened and I felt a fire climbing up my legs, which then rose to my butt. 

"GET-OUT-OF MY ROOM!" a voice demanded. "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE! GET-OUUUUUT!"

Holy Shit! I can't get out of here. Why did I fucking come here? It was just so fucking appealing to me? Did I really have to check on that fucking candle? 

I tugged and nothing. The more that I moved, the dizzier I became. 

I am never making it out of here.