TW: religious mania, self harming in many ways, ed (please don't use if it's triggering you.)

Everything coming from God is perfection. Even if something doesn't seem on the surface like that. And Fyodor was perfection. Most people feared him, despise. You understood them well, but you felt they're wrong at the end.

"God is omniscient; he could stop him if he wanted."

"His making everything perfect for God's sake."

"He's blessed with long-live, God must see potential in him!"

You often repeated these words to yourself, clearly believing it. Being his Guardian Angel was definitely hard.

Fyodor wasn't able to see you. It was eating you inside. He was suffering all days and nights. He was overworking himself, spending many hours on planning, and he often starved himself, just to show God his obedience. He never cared about his health problems, his addiction to biting his nails to blood, ignoring his anemia, and passing out from time to time. You wanted to help him. You heard his prayers, to end his suffer or at least make him feel less pain.

You knew how lonely he was, alone, not trusting anyone, the big hole inside him that nothing could full it. You prayed every day to help him somehow, but you've never been listened. You tried to explain to yourself somehow, but you couldn't do this too long, right? And you started hating yourself for questioning the will of God.

"He's chosen by God."

"If he didn't get a help, it seems he's just strong, and he'll menage it!"

Fyodor passes out for the firth time today. He was lying on the floor, looking like he was dead. He was getting worse with each day. You couldn't do anything. You picked up the Bible from the floor, which he was holding before the accident. It has been open on the page with the resurrection of Lazarus. And you heard something knocking at the window. You turned out. Dove with olive branch. Is it the sign from God? Maybe you're the only one who could help him get through it?

"Помоги мне..." He whispered weakly.