Ok guys, first off I would like to say I'm sorry for not updating as much as I would have liked to in the past week or so. I have been in a bit of trouble lately. Ha. *scratches back of neck* ANYWAYS, secondly I want to thank those of you who favorite, subscribe, etc. It really means SO much to me. I know last chapter was kind of… cute? I dunno. P.M. me or leave reviews if you would like me to do more cutesy stuff during the story, I might just try making it a bit romantic too? Yes? No? Ha. Well, here's chapter 4 of Let go. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Checking… Nope, still don't own Degrassi.

Clare's POV:

It's been a little over a week since I've seen Bianca. I'm starting to get a little worried. She skips school all the time, but not this much. She hasn't texted me, called, messaged me or even tried to make any contact with me of any kind. Honestly, I'm starting to get a little fed up.

She probably just got into some trouble for stupid shit and got set under restriction. Even then she would sneak her phone away to tell me she was fine and that there was nothing for me to worry about.

My thoughts began to race and I started thinking of the things that could be wrong with her. Did she get too drunk and go into another alcohol induced coma? No, her mother would call and tell me if she did. Was Vince back? Was he hurting her? Oh god.

I got up and sprinted to the bathroom as fast as my legs would carry me. I fell to my knees and slammed the toilet lid open, emptying my stomach of all its contents immediately. Since there wasn't much in my stomach to begin with, it only technically threw up for about 30 seconds before I starting dry-heaving. It hurt so bad. This on top of the small infection in my wrists, and the now extremely excruciating head ache, I felt like I was going to pass out.

After about another minute and a half of dry heaving, I was able to regain my ability to breathe clearly and toppled over next to the toilet. I just lied there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about if I should go to see if Bianca was ok. It was only about 7:30 in the morning, and I hadn't slept very much at all the entire week.

Apparently, my body was more sleep deprived than I thought, because I became dizzy, and I had absolutely no energy left of was I previously felt. For about 5 minutes, I debated (in my state of half consciousness) whether to actually get up and move back to my bed or just sleep on the floor. It was pretty comfortable, and I could definitely see myself taking a long nap here.

I leaned up and grabbed a towel off the rack and bunched it up underneath my head. As I laid there, the mat underneath me became warm with my body heat, and my eyelids were growing heavier and heavier as the seconds went by.

Finally, after about 3 minutes of lying there and staring at the beige wall in front of me, I allowed my eyes to close, and the amazing feeling of sleep welcomed my body again.

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I woke up by myself at around 5:30, still in the same position on the bathroom floor I was in when I fell asleep. To be quite blunt, it was probably the best sleep I have had in over a year.

I rose to my knees and almost threw up again when I smelled the stench of the vomit I had neglected to flush hours before. How could I forget to do something so basic? Had I even brushed my teeth? The taste in my mouth was telling me "No, dumbass, you didn't". This is probably the most disgusting thing I have ever done.

I got up and flushed the toilet quickly before making my way to the sink and lathering my tooth brush with a thick layer of my minty flavored tooth paste.

I brushed for a good five minutes, finally feeling like I had gotten all the nasty ass germs out of my mouth. My gums were bleeding from all the vigorous brushing I had done. Oh well, I would rather have bleeding gums than rotten ones.

I took a quick shower, washing my hair three times to make sure there was no vomit or tooth paste residue left in my tangled curls before I finally left the bathroom and got dressed in something decent.

I had to go see Bianca. By now it was eating my alive. It was probably just restriction, but I couldn't help but think something was wrong. What if she was sick? How sick could she really be? Stop it Clare! You're going to get yourself worked up again! Damn me and my excessively worried thoughts.

I practically ran down the stairs and almost tripped over a couple steps before I had to stop myself from colliding into my mother.

"Clare, why are you in such a rush?" she asked me with a pointed look.

I swallowed and looked down from her gaze. It felt like she was burning holes in my skin.

"I-I was j-just going to see B-Bianca." I managed to stutter. I felt pathetic. She was the only other woman in the world that could make me want to piss myself without even trying.

"Oh, well, I am not going to drive you if that's why you're stuttering."

"N-No, it's fine, I need to get some exercise anyways." The clarity of my words surprising me.

My mother looked me up and down for a moment and nodded her head in agreement. At that moment, I wanted to punch her in the face so hard he teeth would fly out her ass like bullets. Sadly, unless I want to be 6 feet under a bunch of dirt in a box, I had to restrain myself.

I swiftly swooped around her and walked out the door, immediately feeling free from her restraints in the house. Other than throwing up my guts and being silently criticized by my mother, today was actually turning out to be a pretty good day. Here's hoping Bianca doesn't tell me something to screw it up.

Still feeling my natural high from my great mood, I decided to run to her house. I haven't in a while, and now seemed like the perfect time. The sun was bright, the air was sweet, and I was completely energized. Besides, she only lives a few blocks away, so why not?

As I ran, I began to feel even better than before I started. My body was practically carrying itself. It was so effortless, and I honestly felt like I could have just jumped and blown with the wind straight to my destination at any moment. I wasn't even getting sweaty, thanks to the wonderful breeze.

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As soon as I got to Bianca's house, I noticed all of her cars where in the drive way. Usually he dad is gone to work by this time, and her mother is pretty much always out running errands or something, so I became a little nervous. I didn't want to be interrupting anything, but I had to find out what was going on with her.

I made my way up the steps, and as soon as my finger pushed the doorbell, I immediately regretted it. No one answered the door, so I raised my finger to ring it again but I was beat to it when someone opened the door. It was none other than Bianca.

She was pale, extremely pale, and she was so skinny I could have slung her over my shoulder. She had multiple hospital bands around her left arm, and her eyes were blood shot. I looked her up and down a few more times before I looked her in the eyes again. The look of worry and panic that clouded them made me want to break down and cry. I have never seen her like this.

"Be? A-are you ok?" I was choking on my words and my throat had that terrible burning sensation you get when you're about to sob. But no matter how much I wanted to right now, I couldn't.

She just stood there, completely silent for about a minute before she moved away from the door nodding me in.

When I entered the house, I immediately saw her mother coming from the kitchen, holding a bowl of what looked like some watery brown liquid.

"Clare, Hi, Bianca what are you doing up?" her mother's words were stern at the end, and I knew she was probably going to catch hell for answering the door.

She just nodded her head and led me to her room. Her mother watched us all the way up the stairs, and before Bianca turned to go down the hallway, she looked back at her mother, the look on her face seemed like she was silently asking for permission. Permission for what?

Her mother gave her a stiff nod, and turned back to the kitchen. Bianca moved around me and made her way down the hall slowly. I was so confused right now. They were acting like they had some huge secret they were protecting from me, from the world. If there was I sure as hell wasn't leaving until I knew what it was.

Bianca finally made it to her door and opened it, leaning on the knob for support. Why was she so weak? She seemed fine a week ago. As I watched her struggle to stand, I immediately felt guilty for coming over here and bothering her at such a bad time. Why couldn't I have waited just a couple more days until she got over this?

I moved to her side and hoisted her up in my arm so she wouldn't fall, and slowly but surely, we made it over to her bed, where she immediately collapsed and gasped for breath.

After she regained her composure, she say back up, eyes still closed, and tilted her head down. I looked almost as if she was praying. What could she be praying for? Bianca is not a religious person. I recall her telling me once that God was just a lie, made up so that kids wouldn't be scared to die when it was there time in life.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me, fear practically pouring from every crevice of her body. She looked so… vulnerable. What was she hiding that was causing her so much distress?

She opened her chapped lips and prepared herself to speak, but she could only stutter a few in-audible noises before running out of her room to the bathroom and slamming the door shut in my face. I banged and banged on the door, but no matter how hard I pounded she wouldn't open up.

Her dad must have heard the commotion, because he came racing down the hallway and busted the bathroom door open. My curiosity got the best of me and no matter how much I told myself not to, I looked into the small room. What I saw tore me to pieces.

Bianca was slouched over the toilet, blood pouring from her mouth, sobbing in between her vomiting. I collapsed to my knees, feeling the room spin. I took in what breath I could and raised my gaze from the floor when I heard her stop choking.

Her dad has holding her in his lap, smoothing her hair while she sobbed into his shoulder. That's when I finally let it happen. Right there in the middle of their hallway, I scrunched into a ball, and sobbed. It was unlike any other time I've cried this hard. Usually all the other times I would cry because I was mad. This time, I was crying because of the confusion, the hurt.

Bianca must have heard me, because she crawled over to me and held me in her skinny little arms until I stopped crying.

"It's going to be ok, shh." She whispered those soothing words in my ear until I stopped and was able to wipe the tears from my face.

As soon as I was done, I sat up to look her in the face, and she had the most serious expression on her face.

"Clare, w-we have to talk. Please." Her words were almost pleading, and I nodded quickly before helping her back up to her room. Her mother helped me get her into her bed, and kissed her in the temple before making her way back out of the room.

Whatever Bianca was about to tell me, I certainly didn't want to hear it. From what I had just seen, I knew it wasn't going to be good, but I needed to know, and I knew she needed to tell me.

ALRIGHTY THEN. I'm pretty proud of this chapter coming out this good after writing it at 4:00 in the morning. Ha. P.M. me or tell me whatcha think in the reviews!