SAD SONG

In a pitch-black night, a lone man abruptly wakes from a nightmare. The room is dim and silent, and at the end of his bed hangs a red silk gown—hers. Drawn to a strange noise, he opens the door and finds his lover collapsed just outside, motionless. There's no blood, but something is clearly wrong. Her dress is damp, the air is heavy, and the silence is loud. He cradles her in his arms, whispering "Hey, pretty baby… what's going on?" but there’s no response. The room around them is a mess—signs of a struggle. A red handprint stains the wall. Something terrible happened here. Suddenly, flashbacks begin. The woman arguing with a faceless figure cloaked in shadow. The man's eyes narrow as he recognizes the figure—someone from the past? A stranger? A betrayal? The music grows heavy. Rain begins to fall outside as the man lights a cigarette. He stands by the window, lost in thought, replaying moments with her—her laughter, their fights, a kiss goodnight. As he investigates the apartment further, the mirror reveals what his eyes missed—behind him, the shadow returns. He turns—but the screen cuts to black. The final scene reveals a rainy funeral. Black umbrellas fill the screen. He stands alone, coat drenched, silently mouthing the words: “It’s a sad, sad song…” Fade out. End credits roll in slow jazz.