My name is Canitha, and I am the mother of Cieha Annette Taylor. There are no words strong enough to explain what it feels like to wake up every day not knowing where your child is. Since the day Cieha went missing, our lives have been filled with nothing but pain, questions, and an emptiness that I carry with me every single moment.

Cieha is my baby. No matter how old she got, she was always my little girl. Her smile could light up a room, and she had a way of making people feel seen, heard, and loved. She was bold, kind, and full of life. To have her vanish without a trace—it is a nightmare no mother should ever have to live through.

The not knowing is unbearable. It is a constant ache in my heart. There is no peace in our home, no rest in my soul. I wonder every day if she’s safe, if she’s hurting, if someone has answers that they’re too afraid—or too cold-hearted—to share. We have spent countless nights crying, searching, praying, and holding onto hope that feels harder and harder to find.

Our family has been shattered. Her siblings are broken, her friends are lost, and I am left trying to hold us all together while dealing with a pain I can’t even begin to put into words. This has changed every part of my life—mentally, emotionally, physically. It’s affected my health, my ability to work, my sleep, and my sense of safety in this world.

All we want is to bring Cieha home. We deserve answers. She deserves justice. No one just disappears—not without someone knowing something. If you know anything, I beg you—please, do the right thing. Come forward. Let this nightmare end.

I will never stop searching. I will never stop fighting for my daughter. And I will never stop loving her.

With all my heart,

Canitha Taylor

My name is Katrina, and I am the sister of Cieha Annette Taylor. Since the day Cieha went missing, our lives have never been the same. The absence of answers has created a void in our family that grows deeper with every passing day. It's a silence that screams through birthdays, holidays, and quiet moments—reminding us constantly of her disappearance and the uncertainty surrounding it.

Cieha is not just a name on a missing persons list—she is a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a light in our lives. Her laugh, her love, her fierce spirit—these are not memories we want to cling to, but parts of her we are desperate to see again, alive and whole. Every morning we wake up with hope and go to bed with questions that have no answers. This trauma does not fade—it lingers, affecting our mental, emotional, and physical well-being.

Not knowing what happened to her is a daily torment. There is no closure, no peace. We are trapped in a cycle of fear, hope, and grief. And through all of this, we fight to keep her story alive—to make sure she is not forgotten, to demand answers, and to ensure that someone, somewhere, does not stop looking.

The impact of Cieha’s disappearance extends far beyond our family. It touches our community and reminds us all of the urgency and importance of finding missing persons. We will never stop searching. We will never stop asking questions. And we will never stop loving her.

If you know something—anything—please come forward. Help bring my sister home.

Sincerely,

Katrina Overstreet