INT./EXT. TRAIN, ARDSLEY-ON-HUDSON, NEW YORK - MORNING
We hear a train’s mournful clatter as trees flash by and then
the train itself passes in a silvery streak.
A woman draws an “x” on her foggy window-- looking out
through it directly at us:
This is RACHEL and she is THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN.
RACHEL (SOFT V.O.)
...My husband used to tell me I
have an overactive imagination. I
can’t help it. I mean, haven’t you
ever been on a train and wondered
about the lives of the people who
live near the tracks? The lives
you’ve never lived.
Out the window: A series of backyards slowly
A MAN walks towards his front yard.
An OLDER MAN works on a vintage car in his yard.
CHILDREN slide down playground equipment.
A LONE BOY throws a ball. His dog chases after it.
These are things I want to know.
Rachel sits alone, sketching in a small notebook.
Rachel’s expectant eyes as the train begins to
... Twice a day I sit in the third
car from the front where I have the
perfect view into my favorite
Number 15 Beckett Road...
Standing on the upstairs deck of a house, a
gorgeous blonde, MEGAN, wears a light opened robe with only
white underwear and bra underneath. She stretches her back
like a cat. Her curved silhouette is intoxicating.
The train comes to a brief stop at the station and, outside
the other window, Rachel can see work crews fixing the
tracks. And beyond them, the Hudson River.
...I don’t know when exactly. I
suppose I started noticing her
about a year ago and, gradually, as
the months went past, she became
important to me...
As the train creeps forward RACHEL SPOTS--
A BLUE HOUSE WITH A WHITE PICKET FENCE...
...She quickly averts her eyes from the view of the house--
repressing an inner pain. Focusing on her sketch book.
Rachel’s eyes land on a MAN IN A SUIT, red hair, 50, pasty
and plain-- typing on a laptop. He looks up at Rachel. There
is something disconcerting about the exchange.
I’m not the girl I used to be. I
think people can see it on my face.
INT. TRAIN - NIGHT
Rachel’s profile has flipped: she now rides in the opposite
direction, on the EVENING TRAIN.
She watches the familiar houses glide past.
This evening, Megan sits with her equally
beautiful husband, SCOTT next to a backyard fire pit.
Each holds a glass of wine. The roaring fire glows on their
faces as they watch the passing train.
SCOTT spins Megan around and begins to kiss her.
She’s what I lost. She’s everything
I want to be...
Rachel returns to her sketchbook.
INT. TRAIN - NEXT MORNING
Headed back to New York, Rachel POV: Rachel stares at the
burnt out fire pit behind 15 Beckett Road.
Megan is on the balcony in her robe while Scott rakes leaves.
Scott as he looks up from raking and seems to look
directly at Rachel.
INT. GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL - MORNING
Rachel’s train arrives and she wades through a sea of
commuters in the Grand Hall. She wears a plain dress and
carries a work satchel.
STATION ANNOUNCER (O.S.)
...now departing track nineteen,
INT. GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL - MOMENTS LATER
Rachel sits in a row of chairs getting her shoes shined.
She’s the only woman among eight male customers.
Rachel sketches in her sketch book and sips from a squirt
...I imagine she’s a painter...
CLOSE ON SKETCH PAD: We see Rachel’s hand at work as she
produces a beautiful images of Megan and Scott.