Bobby Can't Dance and Other Ridiculously Depressing Stories

Here I bring you a collection of excerpts from the most brutally heartbreaking stories ever told. Have a box of tissues ready.
This first excerpt proves that life indeed is not all about the birds and the bees. It’s also about stung to death by the fuckers.

Excerpt 1:
From ‘Crystal Loves Nature’.

Chapter 12

As Crystal wandered through the beautiful gardens of the wildlife sanctuary, she brushed her hands through the bluebells and daffodils.
The sun rose elegantly from behind the trees, allowing its light to shimmer through the swaying branches. The luscious green grass glistened with a christening of dew as Crystal sank into it, the sun’s warmth slowly engulfing her.
A robin hopped onto a branch and cocked its head to look at her. Crystal smiled back and gently whistled for it to come closer. It hopped onto the wet grass, curious.
“Come on little birdie,” Crystal sang.
All of a sudden, the robin shot towards her, deranged, landing on her face and pecking at her eyes. Crystal screamed as it clasped its beak around her tongue and tugged at it, and she rose from the grass and ran blindly towards the orchard, swiping at the robin in desperation. She managed to wrap her hands around the evil bird and wrench it away from her face, but the robin’s grip on her tongue was too strong and in a moment of intense pain, Crystal realised something was very wrong.
She’d pulled off the robin, and her own tongue.
Spluttering on the warm, coppery blood filling the back of her throat, she lobbed the bird into the bushes and bolted towards the summerhouse at the end of the orchard.
With one of her eyes damaged by the robin’s pecking, Crystal couldn’t see where she was going. Her shin hit something soft and she toppled forward, collapsing heavily onto some rotten apples.
With her one good eye, Crystal spotted what she had tripped over; a large, angry vixen, its mouth contorted into a terrifying snarl. It approached her legs, and ripped the shoes from her feet before disappearing into the trees.
Sighing with relief, she pulled herself onto her feet, and tiptoed lightly through the rotten apples with an endless stream of blood pouring from her mouth. Finally reaching the summerhouse, Crystal turned to stare at a beautiful rosebush, teaming with diligent bees eager for pollen. She managed a painful, crooked smile, and felt her cheek knock against something hanging from a tree branch, which subsequently fell to the floor.
Her face dropped in horror as she stared down at a bee’s nest, and the infuriated swarm descended on her.

Excerpt 2:
From ‘Double Geoffardy’.

-Chapter 18: The Illusion of Freedom –

Geoff smiled at the guard as the prison gates opened, and the sunlit courtyard beyond beckoned to him. With a satisfied sigh, he stepped outside.
Freedom.
He grinned from ear to ear as a cool breeze blew through his hair, and he felt the ache of twenty years of incarceration subsiding with every step he took. Even the prison-issued plimsolls he’d forgotten to remove felt soft and light, cushioning his feet.
The pain of the injustice he had suffered as an innocent man accused of murder had diminished considerably by the time he had reached the centre of the courtyard. He remembered the Judge who’d condemned him those many years ago without disdain; Geoff was so appreciative of his new found freedom that he could have kissed the old bastard. Let off for good behaviour, Geoff had had to confess to a murder he didn’t commit, but now despite everything, it was all worth it.
He scanned the tree line that bordered the edge of the prison courtyard for his wife and children, and felt his heart melt as he spotted them waving from the carpark.
His loyal wife had chosen to adopt rather than have the child of another man, and she had brought them in to visit every single week without fail. Geoff had watched them grow from behind glass, and they had flourished into respectful, intelligent teenagers. He couldn’t wait to be their father.
With the sun on his back Geoff reasurred himself that he would make up for lost time, deciding there and then that from now on he would take nothing for granted. The sound of a distant dog’s bark was music to his ears, the beauty of the ladybug crawling up his arm brought a tear to his eye and the anticipation of the future life he would enjoy made his heart beat like it was running laps.
At this point, I’d just like to authorially intrude to make it a hundred percent clear that the Geoff is very happy to be out of prison and very much wouldn’t like to go back. If you are not crystal clear on that by this point I’d recommend re-reading from the start of the chapter.
Geoff spotted something glinting in the sunlight, a few yards ahead of him. As he neared it, he realized what it was.
A pistol!
‘One of the guards must have dropped it’, he thought, ‘how irresponsible. I can’t leave this here; what if one of the inmates finds it? It doesn’t bare thinking about’.
Geoff stooped to pick up the gun and rattled it. Cocking the barrel, he was surprised to find the gun loaded.
‘Someone is going to get fired over this!’ he thought to himself, ‘I’ve got to give this to one of the guards before a prisoner finds it’.
Geoff considered removing the bullet, but what then? He couldn’t leave the bullet out here in the courtyard, but if he removed the bullet and took them both to one of the guards, stumbling across an inmate on the way, what would happen then? It would cause chaos and someone might get hurt! No- the only option was to dispose of the bullet, and there was only one way to do that.
Geoff pointed the gun down the courtyard, and prepared to fire.
The sunlight shone into his eyes making it difficult to see, but the courtyard had been empty a moment earlier and Geoff made the assumption that it still would be. He fired the pistol.
The light faded as a cloud covered the sun, and Geoff spotted a figure keeling over at the far end of the courtyard.
‘I wonder what’s wrong with him?’ he thought. He spun to the sound of shouting behind him, and spotted four armed guards running towards him, frantically gesturing.
‘They must be asking me to check the man is ok, perhaps he’s had a heart attack?’ Geoff wondered aloud. He made his way towards the collapsed figure, and as he neared he noticed that the man was a prison guard himself. Standing over the body, Geoff saw that there was a hole in the back of the guard’s clothing.
‘This guy needs a new uniform!’ he thought, and then spotted what was wrong; a wasp was sat on the back of the man’s head.
‘He must be allergic to wasp stings, I better get rid of of the bastard before he stings again’. Geoff attempted to pistol-whip the wasp, but it easily sidestepped his blow and the gun collided with the back of the man’s head. He tried several more times to no avail, before the four guards crash tackled and handcuffed him.
While he was being dragged back to prison, a confused Geoff looked up and saw his wife and children knelt over the guard’s body as the medics desperately worked. He realized that were not, infact, his family but that of the dying man’s.
It dawned on him that he was going back to prison for yet another muder he didn’t commit.

Excerpt 3:
From 'Bobby Can’t Dance'.

CHAPTER VI

Bobby looked down at his legs and wiggled his toes.
“You’re free to go now, Bobby,” said Doctor Kestle, warmly.
“Gee thanks Doc! I’m gonna run and run and run all day long!” screeched Bobby, annoyingly.
“Go easy, I don’t want you hurting yourself,’ warned the Doctor, helping Bobby off of his hospital bed.
“Wait- what day is it Doc?” he squealed excitedly, although the Doctor found his excitedness grating, rather than cute.
“Tuesday,”
“But that means - oh boy! That means the dance competition is tomorrow!” Bobby exclaimed, doing an annoying dance that made the Doctor want to stand on him.
“Did I tell you about the dance competition Doc, did I, did I?”
“You might have mentioned it before going under anesphetic, after telling me about how your first girlfriend dumped you at your foster parent’s funeral after which you ran home crying and got beaten up by the local bullies who left your legs useless and then you crawled home through the rain and nearly drowned in a puddle and got hypothermia and then got home to find your pet goldfish dead”.
“Well I saw my foster parents in a dream last night and they asked me to win the dance competition for them! I will win it, for you foster mum and dad!” Shouted Bobby, annoyingly.
“Shh, keep it down Bobby, you’re in a hospital,” said Doctor Kestle, annoyed.
Bobby ran home and spent the whole night practicing, and got up early the next morning in time for the dance competiton. When it was his turn, Bobby danced with his heart and soul, putting in every ounce of energy he had until he eventually collapsed, aching, but happy in the knowledge that it was the best dance he had ever done.
The panel of judges sat with their mouths open wide in shock.
“We-ll, wh-at did ya, th-ink?” Bobby panted.
One of the judges leaned forward towards his microphone.
“Bobby, you just can’t dance”.

Well there you have it, consider my heartstrings thoroughly yanked. If you didn't shed a tear at all, then you must have a heart of stone and a gaping abyss of a soul, and I never want to meet you. Good day.