Tears slipped down his face as his mother pulled the bandages off. He twitched and squirmed, crying for her to stop. The pain was unbearable. This happened every week, yet he still would never be used to the pain. His mom applied fresh bandages and rubbed his back gently. Johnny Kennedy was the most lively, fun-hearted, and hilariously optimistic 13 year old boy there ever was, but he had restrictions. Let me just get to the point, he had a disease: A deadly disease. I hope you’re not expecting a fairytale, because that’s not what you are going to get. I don’t remember the full name of Johnny’s disease, but people called it EB for short. EB is a genetic condition that caused his skin to fall off at the slightest touch, and along with it came skin cancer. Imagine not being able to hug your mom, kick a soccer ball around, brushing your hair, or even pick up a book. His disease had scarred his hands and feet so much that now he had no fingers or toes, making the stubs pretty much useless. Forced to be pushed in a wheelchair, Johnny was miserable. He couldn’t even turn over in his bed without feeling immense pain. When he slept, he dreamt of blue skies and sunshine, a getaway place. This pain was not something Tylenol or Aspirin could take care of. The only things that kept him going were dreaming and church. He was a very spiritual boy, and stayed that way until the end. September 26th, 2003, Johnny took his last breath and his life was cut short. Even though Johnny wasn’t physically there anymore, his story went on to inspire peopel to be thankful for what they have.