A small sample from one of my shorter pieces–not a vampire in sight 🙂
Mirrors? No chance, he thinks with a shudder, closing his eyes. He’s had no mirrors in his house since he took a hammer and smashed them all, one by precious one, then spent an afternoon sweeping up the pieces with half closed eyes just so he wouldn’t see a clear image of himself in the fragments. He used to catch a glimpse of himself in his computer workstation monitor years ago until he got a no glare screen, and he is certain it has only gotten worse since then. He’s gotten rid of all the reflective surfaces in his house, including the kitchen appliances. More phobias for the virtual doctor to worry about—BDD, eisoptrophobia, agoraphobia—alphabet soup, really , but this is his reality, the only one he knows.
He feels his face, the only human contact he can tolerate, and it feels normal, but—he’s afraid. If he’s ugly, people will be scared of him, and if he’s beautiful, they will only care about how he looks. They don’t know that he has a beautiful soul, that he can recite Shakespeare and poetry, and he writes poems about nature, and poems about love.
Love that he believes will never be his.