Everything has value, but what about a world of gold? Is everything so valuable that money means nothing?

Fifteen year old Betty had been hit by a bus and had been in a coma for 2 years, until now. Her family grieved for a while, but overtime forgot about their own daughter, after all, she was the left out one.

She had no idea what was going on in the world around her, with her family, her friends.

She had been showing signs of waking up for weeks now, subtle blinks; hand movements, even just a little sniffle and people believed she could wake up, and she did.

Everything around her was different, why was it golden? She wanted to look out of the window, but she couldn’t get up, she was striving to move but nothing. She looked down at her bed, solid gold. She looked at her paralysed legs, gold. She looked at her wheelchair, solid gold. Was this valuable? Was it normal? Was Betty seeing things?

She leaned over to her nightstand, with a button, made of solid gold. She clicked it, nothing happened, or so she thought.

People of solid gold came rushing into her room, squealing with excitement. They looked like statues?

Her first question was “why is everything gold?”

No one gave her a straightforward answer.

“It’s not?” The nurse said, looking concerned.

“It is! Even you are?” Betty insisted.

All of the nurses looked at each other, nodding, as if they could read each others minds, of gold.

“No, it’s not.” The nurse said sternly, “And don’t speak of this to other people”

All Betty could think was ‘speak of what?’ Until it hit her…