She was the Thief Girl with no faith and half a heart, and she didn't care if they never ever saw her soul anyway. She was almost content in the half broken life she had created for herself. Her fingers were always drenched in ink, her mind was always preoccupied with her treasure. Words stolen from conversations, from homes, from mouths that didn't need to speak any more.
She found the Lost Boy somewhere in an alley of poetry and a war of lyrics, fighting for his life with a broken piano and a worn tuxedo. She stole him before the bass viols, the gleaming guitars and the thrashing drums could kill him.
He fought with her all the way, telling her that they would never hurt him, but she had seen their wooden hands outstretching to wring his neck. When he spoke again, this time, calmer, he asked her, "What do you want from me?"
"Just your words."
"I lost my words a long time ago."
"I will help you find them, then."
"I never asked for your help."
"But you shall have it anyway."
"Because you write songs that are always about hopelessness."
"And how do you think you can help?"
"Have you tried God lately?"
"Oh for- are you serious?!"
"What did you ask him?"
"I already know you asked him something. Even the atheists asked once upon a time. It's how they became atheists."
"I asked him why I failed at everything I do. Why my music won't make anyone smile, why I can't play the lyrics I write, why my words disappear. Why I'm such a failure."
"And did you get a response?
"What did he-"
"God said no."
"And what do you think He meant by it?"
"That I was too much of a failure to be worth His time eit-I'm glad that my pain amuses you."
"You misunderstood. That's why I'm smiling."
"So...you have a better answer then."
"Better than God?"
"All failures at their very core are happy accidents just waiting to get you to the best thing that would ever happen to you."
And that is how a thief girl rescued a lost boy and found him his words again.