The Fault in The System (MBTI)

Defectors

A/N: Hey everyone! Zilahsina has decided to collaborate to write this story, so thank her for this chapter :). Also, please check out her book, "The Other Half of Us", it's a great read :).

Written by: zilahsina

Edited by: AngelsInBakerStreet

_

The girl studied me carefully as I surveyed the room, although it was almost impossible to. It was so bright that it seriously hurt to look around.

"So..." A rough-voiced man spoke. "Good morning."

"'Morning," The other girl managed while my eyes were still adjusting to the light. 

"So," another long silence, "Aren't you wondering why you both are here?" He spoke slowly.

"No," clashed our quick and silent responses. A teenage thing, right?

"Okay then, I assume you are clever... Over-smart? Genius?" He mocked. I could tell that he did not believe those words.

Now we remained silent. 

"Tell me, why do you think you are sitting here and not in your Introduction rooms?"

We still kept silent.

"You know, you are considered a threat to the government."

"That must be a mistake." Said the bespectacled girl. 

"Go on," He urged. 

"I...uh, I was very nervous... I, my fingers were sort of-f trembling, so I kept missing the answers." Perfectly brainstormed, I admitted. Or observed? Either way, this was evidently dangerous for us.

"You 'missed' for precisely 21 times?" He inquired. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes squinted. His expression made me realize just how dangerous this man could be.

"I found many questions offending." She admitted. Simple yet sharp. Where did she belong to?

"I see, Ashley Brooke... Do you have the same thoughts, Mackenzie?" He turned to me.

"I too found many questions inappropriate."

"And would you say you are loyal to the government?" He asked me in particular.

"Why not?" I questioned him back, with an undertone of humor. Being scared made me feel a little reckless. He tapped something on a screen. It was still way too bright in the room. Perhaps to intimidate us? A pair of hands pricked our arms with something and shoved me out of the room into the passage we had come from. I saw room 150a written clearly. Ashley was standing in the hall too. The hall was silent. No bickering from ENTPs, no laughing from ENFPs, and honestly, no one at all from the Extroverted section. You can't expect much noise from the Introverted anyway. The whole place seemed deserted. 

"Strange," we both murmured under our breaths. 

I couldn't let down my ISFJ heritage, so just as they have taught me, I extended my arm for a hand-shake. "Hello, I'm Mackenzie Wright." She looked at my hand uncertainly as if debating whether it was safe or not to shake hands. 

Finally she shook my hand, "I'm Ashley. Call me Ash, if you want. That's what my sector called me."

"You can call me Kenzie. Which sector are you from?" I tried to make a safe conversation. They would be listening.

"The INTJs. And you?"

"The ISFJs."

"And what did you get on the test?"

"The INFJs, you?" It was getting friendly, but... not harmful yet.

"Uh..." She got a little nervous and combed her hair once with her fingers, "My test said I'm an INFP." She bit her lip as if questioning herself. The way she said it was a little dubious. 

"Look, if anything, we need to get out," I tensed as I tried to understand the situation. We were apparently free to go, but there had to be something wrong about it. The government wouldn't do that.

She nodded in approval, desperate. And as if the air knew, it made space for us as we ripped through it to the exit. But the exit impossibly seemed to run away from us. Ashley stopped abruptly leaving me sprinting for another few meters. "This is not normal..." she said in between breaths.

"Exactly. However long I run, this exit always stays ahead of me for at least five meters!" I was getting more and more anxious.

I felt the light stinging my eyes again but it was bearable now. 

"You think we are fools," The rough voice was irritating. The man leaned in to look at my face clearly. Was I ever in the hallway? "You both need counseling before we can send you to your Introduction Rooms." Counseling didn't sound very appealing at all. Ash and I exchanged a look of, 'are we ever going to our Introduction Rooms?' 

As if reading our minds, the man said, "No, perhaps not. You might be sent for another test to see how much you really are devoted to the Government. We will see. Because we really don't waste time on correcting defectors."