Okay, so this is my second That '70s Show fan-fic. I'd like to thank OXannaOX because I wouldn't be writing this story if she hadn't requested it. It was a huge complement to me. And I just want to say thanks to everyone who takes the time to add any of my stories to story alert, leave reviews, or even just read it. Thanks a ton! I hope you enjoy this story. Just to clarify things, this takes place before Jackie Bags Hyde. Warning: May contain some violence and swearing. BTW, I don't own That '70s Show. If I did, Jackie and Hyde would've gotten together in Jackie Bags Hyde.

Jackie Burkhart stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn't recognize her reflection. The girl staring back at her was horrifying to look at. This girl had bruises in all stages of healing covering her legs, arms, and midsection. This girl's mismatched eyes didn't have their usual spark of something unique. Her hair wasn't done, and her makeup wasn't on. Jackie wanted to believe this wasn't her, but it was.

Jackie walked into her room and sorted through her closet. She had to cover up her bruises but still look cute at the same time. Jackie knew that if she showed up to school in a frumpy outfit, people would start to get suspicious. That would make Chip mad, and Jackie didn't want to make him mad.

Ah, Chip. The guy she started to date with the simple intention of making Steven Hyde jealous. Jackie knew Hyde would never admit he was jealous anyways thanks to that God damn Zen. Jackie tried to have feelings for Chip, but she couldn't. Still, she kept dating him simply so the sting of loneliness wouldn't hit her too hard all the time. Jackie's parents were never around, so she basically lived by herself. Of course, Jackie would deny that if anyone ever found out. She was not to be pitied. Jackie couldn't trust any of her cheerleading minions with her secrets; they'd all stab her in the back at a moment's notice. Her best friend, Donna, was busy with her boyfriend Eric. Her ex Michael was too busy chasing whores around Point Place, and Fez was too child-like to be trusted with this problem. So, Chip became Jackie's go-to for company. He always was pushing for them to have sex, but she refused. One night, Chip smacked her after she moved his hands away from her boobs. "God, Jackie! Stop being a little fuckin' goody-goody!" he had shouted at her, his eyes filled with rage. Jackie had choked back her tears and let him put his hands wherever he wanted to. She hadn't known the mess she'd gotten into.

The next day, Chip had apologized and promised that it would never happen again. He took her shopping and bought her a beautiful necklace. Jackie wanted to believe him, so she tried to forget what happened. Then, about a week later, the next hit came when Jackie forgot to call Chip when she got home. She started to see a pattern. Chip would get mad, hit her, and then have a cooling off period of at least a day. He'd be really sweet and gentle with her, doing whatever she wanted and buying her nice presents. This felt all too familiar to Jackie; it was what her parents did every time they didn't come home they said they would or when they forgot about her birthday. Still, Jackie went along with it. Soon, the beatings became more violent and frequent. She learned not to scream because that would make Chip even more mad. Jackie was scared and didn't know who to turn to.

She didn't think anyone would believe her. They'd all think she was just trying to get attention or something. Jackie couldn't admit her secret to someone and have them reject her. She wouldn't be able to handle it. Plus, even if she did decide to tell someone, who would she tell? Jackie had no one in her life. Sure, she had the basement gang whom she had become surprisingly close to, but would they understand? Would Eric say something like, "The devil had it coming." Would everyone else laugh at the joke, laugh at Jackie's pain? She considered telling Mr. and Mrs. Forman. Jackie trusted them like a girl should trust her parents, but she had a feeling that if she told them this she'd have to tell them everything else. Jackie didn't want to tell them about her alcoholic mother who thought boozing it up with cabana boys in tropical islands was more important than taking care of her daughter or her workaholic father who only came home and spent time with her when he wanted to impress clients with his "perfect" family. She didn't want to tell them that she'd practically been raise by nannies who left her to her own devices. Jackie Burkhart would hold on to her image to the very end.

Sometimes, Jackie thought it was funny how oblivious the gang was about her real life. How they never noticed the way her eyes went dull every time she mentioned her parents. How they bought the image she gave them without hesitation. Jackie had been playing the part her whole life, so it was somewhat understandable. It didn't stop her from wishing someone would bother to look past her exterior and see who she was. Jackie knew that if that happened, the person would be surprised by what they would find. They wouldn't find a shallow, stuck-up princess with supposedly horrible tastes in music. They'd see a broken girl, a fighter who's been losing the war she's fought her whole life.

Jackie wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks and walked into her closet. She picked out a short-sleeved, multi-color, flower-printed dress with a long-sleeved, dark blue jean jacket. The dress was long enough that it covered the bad bruises on Jackie's legs. Most of them were on her upper thighs. Of course, her cheerleading uniform was shorter than the dress, but Jackie knew how to apply make-up to those bruises to make them non-existence, or, if all else fails, she could just wear tights. Jackie had learned a lot in the past two months about hiding stuff.

Jackie headed over to the Formans' since she knew that Chip was out of town for a few days with his band. She had pretended to be sad the day she left. All Jackie really felt was relief. She had a few days to compose herself. Only Hyde, Donna, and Eric were there already. Jackie sat down on the couch next to Donna. They were watching The Price Is Right. Donna looked up to see the tiny brunette sitting next to her on the couch. "Hey, Jackie," she said to her friend.

"Hey, Donna," Jackie responded mundanely. Her eyes were glued to the screen. They picked an old lady again; they always pick old ladies. They should rename the show The Price Is Right For Old Ladies.

The room was oddly silent as they watched TV. Donna, Eric, and Hyde all waited for Jackie to start babbling on about something, but her eyes remained glued to the screen. Eric cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So, Devil, where's your prisoner tonight?" he inquired mockingly. Donna glared at him. She was glad Jackie hadn't gone back to Kelso.

Jackie didn't a miss a beat. "Chip's has a few gigs with his band for a few days," she replied. Only Hyde noticed how Jackie's body tensed up at the mention of her boyfriend.

Nobody said a word after that. They simply sat there in silence, the only noise in the room being the TV. Finally, Kelso and Fez walked into the basement, arguing. "Dude, there is no way Farah Fawcett is hotter than Ginger!" Kelso shouted angrily.

"Farah Fawcett has better hair," Fez reasoned. Jackie had to agree with him on that. "So, are we going to the Hub now?"

Eric nodded and stood up. "Yeah, let's go," he replied, heading out the door. Everyone followed him except for Donna. She noticed the midget hanging back.

"Hey, Jackie, are you coming?" Donna asked her friend, who seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

Jackie snapped out of it. "Yeah, lumberjack, I'll be there in a minute. I'm just going the bathroom to put on some more lip gloss." Donna immediately accepted this and went outside. Knowing no one was there, Jackie took her jacket off and gently rubbed her bruised shoulders. Everything hurt so bad. Chip never went easy on her. The last beating had been worse since he had been drunk.

Eric was in the driver's seat before realizing he left the keys in the basement. He ran back in there only to see Jackie rubbing her black and blue shoulder. Eric couldn't help but stare at her bruised arms. There were bruises that looked fresh while others looked like they were fading. Eric knew that if he looked into a mirror at that moment, he'd see his eyes bugging out.

Jackie didn't notice Eric coming in until she felt a cool breeze coming through the room from the door. She thought about putting her jacket back on, but she knew it would make no difference. Eric had already seen the bruises. "Jackie, what the hell happened to you?"