I cant remember if I have posted this story or not ............. *is blonde so please excuse*

It raises one of the points that I have posted on before - being touched by a ghost. I want to know if we really are being touched, or if the 'ghost' is affecting our brains and making us believe we are being touched..............
If anyone has seen a stage hypnotist then they will know what I am driving at. Some poor soul is selected from the audience and made to sit on a chair. The hypnotist will say a specific word, and the subject will believe that they are being burnt, or having a spike up their bottom..........not really very funny *snigger*.So, is it once again down to the infinate power of the human mind - or something more supernatural?

'I was working as a Shift Commander in the patrol division for a large private security firm in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Part of the duties of said position is the locking down and opening up of certain office buildings on the west side and downtown patrol districts.
One of these buildings was a very old building constructed on or around 1880. Rumours about this building and its goings on had circulated among the ranks for as long as we had the contract. Many other supervisors reported seeing green coloured mists, dark figures tailing them, voices whispering when there was no one there, lights in offices going on and off by themselves, and the sounds of footsteps and jingling keys.
The building was originally constructed as a hotel for upper-crust Springs society, but has long since been converted into offices for lawyers, accountants and such.
In order to keep these folks' offices safe, we were to enter the building and climb up the West stairs and lock the access doors to each floor after turning off the lights to that floor using antique switches next to the West stairwell access door. The building has 6 stories, 7 including the basement, which has its own access from the outside, and has been converted into a Gothic dance club known as "The Underground".
Once you reached the 6th floor, you were to lock yourself in, turn off the lights and proceed across the floor to the East stairwell, where you would lock those doors working your way down.
One night, I had just finished locking all the doors on the way up, had turned out the lights to the 6th floor and was heading down the hall to finish up the building and get the heck out of Dodge. About halfway down the hall it turned very cold (which I didn't think too much of really since it was mid-December in Colorado, and the heating system in the building was blotchy at best) so I stopped to zip up my coat when I heard a very distinct female voice say "Where are you going?".
Thinking that the voice came from a paralegal or accountant working late I said "Nowhere Ma'am, I am just locking up for the night." Then it got REALLY hairy! I felt on my right shoulder, through a thick parka, shirt, bullet proof vest, and T-shirt the coldest hand I have ever felt touch my skin. It was distinctly a hand, and right against my skin. It was so cold it literally burned me, much like dry ice. A fact later to be confirmed by the Sergeant and Corporal, who were on duty with me at the time. They said there was a deep red mark on my shoulder that looked like a hand.
Upon feeling this hand I froze and was terrified, not knowing what move I should make next, when the voice said, much more forcefully this time: "No! Where are you going!?!?". I turned around to face my chilly assailant just to find my flashlight beam shining through empty air. I confess I gave myself over to primal instinct and threw my flashlight at where my horrified mind reasoned my unseen attacker SHOULD have rightly been, turned tail and ran like I've never run before. The cold hand on my shoulder didn't let up until I was onto the stairwell and halfway down to the 5th floor, which believe me didn't take long!
Upon exiting the building, I tore around the corner to my parked patrol car and threw myself against the hood in exhaustion. About that time my radio came alive with my partners desperately trying to reach me. "Lieutenant!! Lieutenant!! Come in! Are you all right?" I was about to respond when I looked up at the 6th floor, to this day I have no idea why, and in the window at about the middle of the building I saw the head and upper torso of a woman. She was looking straight at me. She had long black hair and skin white as the snow that was falling all around me, and she smiled the most hideous and malevolent smile I have ever had the displeasure of being witness to.
I never heard him come up, but Sergeant Tom Anderson looked over at me and said, "Who is that?". At that exact moment the lights in the room switched off, taking the apparition with it, and shrouding the room in darkness.
The guys and I talked for a bit (at a Denny's far, FAR away from that building on Kiowa street) after that. When I asked them how they knew I was in trouble, they said that when I had gone into the building, all radio contact with me had been lost. (Dispatch had tried to get a hold of me to send me on an alarm response, and no one could raise me on the radio, curious, since I had called out as entering the building when I went through the doors as is procedure) that is until they heard a woman shrieking and moaning over the airway. There were no female officers on shift that night, and the dispatcher was also a man.
Luckily for my sanity, Tom had been just down the street, checking an abandoned school, (a story all in itself) and was able to get to me about the time I was collapsing onto the hood of my patrol car.
I do not know who this ghost is, or why she still haunts the place. The only thing unusual that I know for a fact about the place is that the basement used to house a crematorium in the 1930s and 40s. Though all activity in the building seems concentrated on the 6th floor, so I don't know if that has anything to do with this haunting or not.
There are also rumours of a young girl committing suicide on the 6th floor, and about a mass murder there while it was still a hotel around the turn of the century, but those are all just that... rumours.
Over time on that job I saw and heard a lot of unexplained things, feel free to contact me if you are curious about them (other experiences revolve around an abandoned school, abandoned farm, an abandoned sanatorium, and a cable company built on a Native American Burial Ground). But the ghost on the 6th floor will always stand out as the most terrifying experience I have ever had.'

Ahhh.....well done Cuff.......you learn well, Grasshopper!

My head gets all confused about this being touched business.
I have posted here about the girl on my Ghost Walk who distinctly felt herself being prodded through her thick waxed-jacket. She felt cold, boney fingers against bare flesh. The father of my much-loved friend in Liverpool, Samantha (Hi babe if your'e reading ) has hundreds of tales. He worked for Liverpool City council in the restoration department. As you may (or may not) know, Liverpool has hundreds of grade one & two listed buildings. Harry, Sams' dad, worked on many of them. I wont go into all the stories, but oneof them involved cleaning a sand-stone fireplace in a row of early Georgian houses. He was tapped on the shoulder 3 times when thee was no one else there, and he is adamant that the touch made contact with is flesh, not his heavy overalls.........

And apologies for posting this again!

Hammy x x x

Thats cool Hammy,I missed it first time round so Im glad you posted it again. xx