It was December 3rd, 1947. The streets were crowded on Broadway as people were swarming to the Barrymore Theatre for the opening night of A Streetcar Named Desire. It was supposed to be a big hit, and a new face would be the star of the show. People were excited, curious as they filled the lobby and the theatre, taking their seats and chatting about.

Past the audience, the stage that was hidden from view with the large, velvet curtain. Stagehands and other actors were scrambling around for their last minute preparations. Orchestra members made their way to the pit, tuning their instruments.

Molly was in her dressing room, getting her costume and look together. She showed no emotion as she worked quickly into her costume, dress, shoes and all. The show was going to begin soon, there was no time for messing around. She did her hair, powdered her face and covered it all in makeup, being sure to hide the dark circles under her eyes. She was supposed to look beautiful, she was going to put on a show, no one wanted to see such a face. Not even her brother, Arackniss, and their papa, who promised to be here tonight.

They were never going to, never again.

Once Molly finished she went to put the finishing touches on her costume. The actress winced as she moved her arm to slip on a coat. She had forgotten that there was a healing bruise just under her shoulder, which came from-

No.

Stop it.

Don't think about it. Don't think about… that damn man.

Molly felt the room begin to spin and quickly she grabbed a photo in a frame from her vanity. A photo of her brother, Angel Dust. The small girl hugged the photo frame silently, trying not to cry as to ruin her makeup and hyperventilating. Stop thinking about it, she scolded herself. He's not here. Not anymore, never again. Angel told you that.

But he was gone too...

Memories flooded into her mind as she remembered Arackniss telling her the news a month before tonight. That they had found Angel laying in a hotel room, dead from an overdose of drugs. What was worse though was that she remembered how neither Arackniss nor their papa seemed to care. How she remembered locking herself in her room and breaking down at the loss. How she refused to come out, or to eat for days, and would spend longer times at rehearsals just so she wouldn't have to go home. How she sometimes stared at the tall buildings, the Brooklyn Bridge… How papa began ignoring her and focusing more on his remaining son to make him his right hand man for the family. How she missed Angel's warm hugs, his stupid jokes, how he would dress up in drag just for her because no one else in the family would care. How-

A few soft knocks came from the dressing room door, snapping Molly back into reality. A stagehand told her that there was five minutes until curtain. It was almost time.

Molly took a deep breath, calming herself down as quickly as possibly. Without a word, she placed the photo back onto her dresser. There was a show to do.

It would be fine. She'd be fine...

The beginning scenes went by quickly with ease. Molly was playing Stella Kowalski in this play. Every move, every line was etched into her mind and she relayed them on the stage with ease. She felt a twinge of happiness as she did what she had been practicing for all her life. And the occasional applause and cheers from the audience made it better.

Then came Scene 3.

The balcony scene where Stanley would scream for his wife, Stella, a scene that would send chills through everyone. A scene that Molly knew they wouldn't forget.

Right on cue, Molly stepped out from behind the fake door, slowly. The balcony set was very high (as the director wanted this scene to be very dramatic as he called it), maybe three or four stories tall. She wasn't afraid though, she had been up here several times. It wasn't too low or too high.

It was perfect.

Molly then leaned against the metal railing as planned. The scene would end soon after she would wait, then slowly walk down the stairs and to Stanley's arms, be carried away like the script instructed, and it would be time for the next scene.

But the girl had a different ending in mind.

So the actress kept leaning on the balcony, watching the audience who were frozen in their seats, staring at her with curiosity of the scene. She briefly looked down to make sure her acting partner wouldn't be in the way, and kept leaning. She didn't think about anything. Not the man that had hurt her, not papa or her brothers, nothing at all. She simply leaned.

Until there was a creak, a loud crack, and then… she was falling.

The world slowed as Molly felt her heart drop to her stomach. As the old, worn balcony gave away under her, sending her flying down. She held out her arms as the sensation paralyzed her entire body, closing her eyes.

Just as she had planned. The actress had overheard the stagehands talking about their concerns of the old balcony a week ago. How that it was fairly old and cheap and might not be sturdy enough, but the director dismissed their concerns (to quote, he yelled at them to "Get back to painting the fucking set!") because how little time they had to get a new one. He was also quite a cheapskate so quality never stood out to him regardless. He said it would be fine to use. That was when Molly knew.

This was the finale she had wanted.

A million thoughts ran through her head as she fell. She would hit the ground as she had planned. She would be happy again. There would be no more pain, no more sleepless nights from horrid memories, no more forcing herself out of bed. No more having breakdowns in her dressing room, or starving herself. No more hearing Arackniss and her papa fighting, or hearing the screams of the damned, countless victims being interrogated and tortured for what her papa wanted out of them. But most of all...

She would find her brother, Angel. She would be with him again, she would tackle him in a hug, crying her heart out. He would probably do the same, maybe tease her or just hold her close. They would promise never to leave each other again. And her mama would be there too. Mama and her brother would be there waiting for her, and they would all be together again, sharing stories, laughing and-

Her eyes snapped open a few seconds later as she woke up in a dimly-lit bare bedroom. She slowly sat up, confused. Where was she? Was this... the hospital? No, it couldn't be. There was no way she could've survived that fall. And even then, this was no hospital room.

Molly slowly got up out of the bed. Had her plan worked then? There was no pain… It had to have worked.

She was dead.

And this must be the afterlife, maybe it was Heaven and her mama and Angel was waiting for her outside of the door. The girl looked around as she decided to venture towards the door, but froze as she caught her reflection in a nearby, cracked mirror.

She looked different, more different than any costume or any amount of makeup she had worn in her life. She had four arms, four legs, she was fuzzy, cream and pink colored, her hair was longer and larger. She was dressed in her favorite dress, a pink, flared dress that was speckled-patterned and adorned with a belt and pockets. A small bow was on her neck, heels were on her feet and her hair was done up with a black headband. Molly touched her new face and body, feeling a mixture of confusion and a bit of amazement.

What was she?

...Looks could be worried about later. She had to find her family.

So with a deep breath, Molly ventured out of the room and out of the building, and found herself wandering the streets of Pentagram City, Hell.

With every step the female spider demon grew more afraid and more aware of the busy, noisy area. Everywhere was filled with... demons, some that were eyeing her hungrily in different ways. She sighed, biting her lip to hold back tears as she continued down the dirty sidewalk, making no eye contact with anyone. She had no idea where she was going. This wasn't what she had imagined for her being dead, how was she here? Molly couldn't recall doing anything bad in her life-

It then hit her.

Suicide was considered a sin, according to her family's religion.

So…

Was she truly damned to Hell?

Where was she going to go now?

Molly was now on the verge of a breakdown, walking faster and faster. She wished that she could-

"Molls?"

Molly froze in her spot. That voice... She knew that voice anywhere. Could it be? Trembling the female spider demon turned around to find Angel Dust looking at her in a mix of bewilderment, sadness and joy. He looked much different just as she did, dressed in all pink and wearing the feathered fedora that she had gotten him for his 27th birthday, but it didn't matter. It was him. He was there, just as she had hoped.

So she smiled at him, tears flowing down her face, and opened all four of her arms for him to race over and embrace her.

"Hi Angie..."

On the Barrymore stage, under the bright lights and surrounded by broken bits of the balcony was Molly's body. It laid there in a growing pool of blood that was seeping and flowing freely into the wooden boards, her dress and onto her skin, staining everything that it touched crimson red. She laid there with a completely broken neck gifted from the fall. An instant death. There was no suffering.

She didn't see or hear the screams and cries of the audience members. She didn't see some of them running out of the theatre out of fear, some running to get help, some shouting to call for a doctor or for the police to report the accident that just happened, though the truth was sealed away with her soul.

She didn't see the director, the stagehands and actors frozen in their spots or from behind the curtains, the orchestra members trying to figure out what was happening from the pit. And she didn't see her younger brother, Arackniss, clawing desperately towards the stage, screaming obscenities at some of the frightened stagehands, blaming them, calling for his sister in desperation with tears flowing down his face as others held him back. She didn't see her papa sitting frozen in his seat, the color drained from his face, staring numbly at his daughter, his vita mia, his baby's petite body.

She didn't see or hear any of it. She was gone, doing the thing she loved most.

And so she laid, a peaceful look that was forever etched on her face.

So yeah, basically my theory with Molly was that she was a sweet girl all her life, doing no wrong despite growing up in a crime family. Her dream career was to be on Broadway as it grew popular and she worked hard all her life to that moment. I got that from what little info we have on her, I can't help but see her as the bubbly, sweet theatre kid. What caused her to go over the edge though?

Well, as hinted, I came up with that Molly had gotten into a very abusive relationship, and it ended about two years into their relationship when her papa and brothers found out and 'took care of him'. At that point though, she was mentally broken, and it only became worse when Angel, the brother that helped and cared for her the most, died a few months after from his drug overdose. It was the last straw, and well, here's that story.

Hoped you enjoy! I may write more, who knows. We'll see.

Oh, P.S. "Vita Mia" is an Italian term of endearment for families, it means "my life". In case you were curious.

~Arristo~