I don't own Hanazakari no Kimitachi e. The grammar mistakes are on purpose. It is, after all, told from a child's point of view.
In America
My family has gone on vacation in the summer every year. We go to lots of different countries. It was summer now, and we were on vacation in California, which is in America.
I hate America.
We were going to a beach, Daddy and Mommy and me and Shin, my little brother. Americans drive on the wrong side of the road. They also get confused really easy. Even Shin, who was only in kindergarten, knew that red lights mean that you stop the car. But one car drove even though the light at the intersection was red, and came out in front of us. Daddy couldn't stop fast enough. We hit the other car.
I was okay, although my arms were scraped up, and my little brother Shin was only bruised. Daddy was mostly alright, but cut up a lot more than we were. It was Mommy that was hurt really bad.
Me and Shin and Daddy visited her in the hospital every day for a long time. But the doctors couldn't help Mommy. And she died. Daddy said that means she went to sleep, and won't ever wake up again.
I ran away from the inn we're staying at. I ran and ran and ran, and when I stopped I fell over because I was tired. Then I sat up. I was in a park. Mommy loves parks. She used to love parks, I mean.
I started crying. I cried a lot, for a long time. And when I stopped, and opened my eyes, there was a girl standing in front of me. She had brown hair and brown eyes and she was cute, for a girl.
"Why are you crying?" she asked in Japanese, and smiled at me. Her Japanese wasn't good, like mine, but most people didn't speak Japanese here.
"My mommy died," I told the girl. She stopped smiling and started looking very sad.
"I'm sorry," she told me. Then she sat down beside me. "Can I cry with you?" And she sniffled, like she had already started to cry.
I nodded. She hugged me and started crying on my shoulder. I hugged her back and started crying on her shoulder.
And when she cried with me, I didn't hate America so much anymore.