
The Girl on the Train
You're not real.
Weren't your eyes green?
And your hair?
You weren't what I thought.
say that. That proves it.
You weren't what I thought.
Weren't your eyes green?
That proves it. A real person
would never say that.
I get to make it whatever
I want. That proves it.
A real person
would never say that.
The things is,
even after everything,
I wanted to believe.
Duct-taped to a chair,
inches from oblivion,
I still wanted to believe her.
It's a myth that we use
only five percent of our brains.
Ask anyone who's lost
even the smallest bit.
No, we use
pretty much all of it,
and usually
that's not enough.
We never catch the turtle who sits
on the turtle who sits on the...
Yeah.
It's turtles all the way down.
A lot to learn.
A moment too late.
Are you ready?
What did you have for breakfast
this morning, Mr. Herzman?
I'm just getting
sound levels.
Ham and eggs,
like every morning.
Okay.
The trains were hell.
But even hell has levels.
Some are in the middle
of the car,
and they're probably
not going to make it.
The heat from the bodies...
Their hell is worse.
to the edge.
There wasn't a window there,
but there were slats,
and through the slats sometimes
Heaven.
We stopped at a station
somewhere.
Standing still
is worse than moving,
even if you're moving
to something bad.
A bit of light
hit my eye,
so I squeezed closer
to the slat.
Then suddenly...
a beautiful face appears...
with innocent blue eyes.
An angel.
But I didn't believe
in angels,
even then when I was a boy,
certainly not in this place.
The Herzman story had been featured in a
local paper and was picked up nationally.
Before they knew it, they had a book
deal, and there was talk of a movie.
I thought it'd make
an interesting documentary.
History Channel?
That kind of thing?
Yeah.
Internet says
you make movies.
Normally.
I prefer fiction.
Why is that?
It's more believable.
I was late, as usual,
hustling to make the 9:40 to
Hudson where the Herzmans lived.
In the city,
you're always in a hurry.
Gotta get to that meeting,
business lunch, the ATM.
People are just obstacles,
inconveniences.
And every now and then, a face
you can't get out of your mind.
Who is this person,
and how did
our trajectories cross?
What histories does she bring, and what myths
might we create if only given the chance?
And you want to say something,
but you can't find the words.
You're just not that guy.
So she'll always be a face
among faces, a cipher.
You'll never talk on the phone,
recognize her scent.
You won't face each other
over a bistro table,
taste the Malbec, learn
each other's favorite color.
She is, in short,
every girl you'll never know,
never love.
Better never
to have seen her at all.
Now you understand
the ancient wisdom...
Rip out the offending eye.
Except I'd captured her
in my camera.
And like that,
she was gone.
I was getting some B-roll, and she
was just a face across the platform.
No reason to believe
you'd ever see her again.
There are physicists who believe
there are universes like ours...
but with one
or two things changed.
a universe where we might meet.
I didn't think
it'd be this one.
Other universes?
Yeah.
That what you believe?
I find it comforting.
For simplicity's sake,
let's keep to this universe.
It was a little girl,
maybe five or six,
She peered at me
through the slat,
a boy only a little
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Citation
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"The Girl on the Train" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 28 Feb. 2021. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_girl_on_the_train_20312>.